The End of the Affair
by Frog-kun
Summary: Future fic. At the end of high school, Hachiman never did forsake his philosophy. He and Yukino part ways to pursue the lives of loners. Years later, they meet again, but there is no possibility of an innocent high school romance now. Rated for adult themes.
1. Chapter 1

**One: My High School Reunion Was Wrong As I Expected**

This story is not a romantic comedy.

I cannot stress this enough. First of all, it's not funny; I am a very humorless person. I think trying to make people laugh is a form of egoism.

Secondly, it's not romantic. Yukinoshita would agree with me on that. She, too, is not a fan of the romantic comedy god.

I've never had any pretensions to being a good writer. I wrote this for myself, because I am self-obsessed and I can face this. But writers love to talk about universalities, as if in doing so their lies become some garbled form of truth. Well, then, I can embrace my phoniness too. I know everything about what is 'wrong' and rotten, because this is the natural order of things.

If I had any idea how to tell a story correctly, like a writer would, then I would probably begin with the phone call. But at that time, it never felt like a beginning of a story – no, it felt like a half-baked reboot of a serialisation that had gotten cancelled. It brought up memories of things that had never ended and things that had never begun. By that time, you see, I had not thought of Yukinoshita in years. She had ceased to matter as if she had never existed in the first place, and yet I still remembered her voice, ten years after the fact. The thought neither comforted nor irritated me; it was not even very much of a surprise.

But if I did not begin with her, where would I start?

It is impossible to escape from who you are or who you will become, after all. They are one and the same thing, simply measured on different degrees of a yardstick. And I think Yukinoshita Yukino knew that, too, as well as anyone.

* * *

><p>It was around six months before my high school graduation when Yuigahama Yui told me that she wanted to be my girlfriend. I said, "No," and it was there my 'Moteki' period ended, relatively speaking. No girl has ever fallen in love with me before or since. I experienced the fate that I have always felt is inevitable of a protagonist from a harem anime. He picks no one, the heroines come to their collective senses, and the protagonist is forever alone.<p>

I hated love. I hated it because I hated youth, and love is the epitome of all a youth's hopes and dreams. People seem to think that if you hate love it's because you are lonely and you wish you had it, but it's more than that. Hating love is what makes a teenager feel morally superior.

In Yuigahama's case, I did not even think she loved me anyway. If pure, unending love existed, I had no inkling of it. All I saw of young love was people scratching each other's backs, drawn to each other only because of their selfish desire to have their existence be affirmed by another person.

So I said no, because I did not want to be fooling myself either, and Yuigahama cried as if her heart was broken.

I'll admit it: afterwards, I regretted it. I regretted it because Yuigahama and I stopped talking as much as we used to and even Yukinoshita was colder to me than usual. The end of high school came and went anticlimactically, no sentimental tears except from the girls, and so it felt wrong as expected. Even I, in all my cynical, pessimistic ways, thought my graduation would be like a finale of some sort, but it was just another day. The sun rose in the east and set in the west and instead of being there as all my classmates hugged each other, I stood outside and hugged myself. I thought of Yuigahama and what might have been. I had almost felt as if I had grasped at something, but in another instant, whatever half-formed thoughts I had were gone and I headed off for home without ever saying goodbye.

At the back gate, I was surprised to see a familiar face. She had been waiting expectantly for me, knowing full well what a coward I was.

"Nice to see you slinking off," she said, unfolding her arms and flicking her long, silky black hair behind her.

"Yukinoshita," I said, and then I lowered my head. What was there to say? No, I wasn't going to justify my actions now, not at this late stage of the game.

"So, even in the end, you never changed your way of thinking, did you?" It was just like Yukinoshita to cut through the pleasantries and get right to the truth. She wielded her words as if they were a katana. "No," she went on, half to herself, "you _refused _to let the world change you."

"The only person I can be is me," I said, and we both fell silent.

"Maybe so," she said, after a pause. But her eyes had clouded over with sadness, even as her expression remained unchanged. "Congratulations," she said.

"For what?"

"You won, didn't you? Whatever wager you had with yourself to never succumb to your youth."

"You hardly talk like a teenager either, Yukinoshita."

Yukinoshita drew herself up a little. "You realise, Hikigaya-kun, for all intents and purposes, we are now adults of society?"

"I fear for the Japan of the near future."

She took my answer as a yes. "And so that means," she went on, "that you will never be the hero of a youth romantic comedy ever again."

"I never was one," I insisted grimly.

"The signs were there."

I stared mutely at Yukinoshita.

"Surely you felt it too," she said, and for once she sounded vague and almost dreamlike. "The same as I felt the day we first met. A loner boy meets a beautiful girl and their wacky adventures ensue." She smiled wistfully and the breath caught in my throat.

Behind the school building, as countless pink sakura petals fell gently from the trees around us, tinged with the warm glow of the late afternoon sunlight, Yukinoshita Yukino's beauty exceeded anything one could find in nature.

"But we didn't… we never…" I couldn't get the words out properly.

"No," said Yukinoshita, still smiling. "We didn't."

It was as if we were the only two people left in the world. I opened my mouth, about to say something, but I just couldn't bring myself to form the words. Whatever I thought of felt wrong. I looked down instead, frightened of my own heartbeat.

Slowly, the smile faded from Yukinoshita's face.

The moment had passed forever.

"It was nice meeting you, Hikigaya-kun," she said finally.

That was the last time we ever spoke for years.

* * *

><p>I later found out from Yukinoshita's older sister that Yukinoshita had been planning to study abroad in Europe after finishing high school in Japan. If she had been planning to say anything at all that day, I could see why she did not say it. She ended up staying in Europe for so many years that I had already finished university by the time she came back to Japan.<p>

Of course we had already fallen out of contact long before then, as I had with everyone I knew from high school. For all my notoriety as a rotten youth back then, I was quickly forgotten. Yuigahama and Totsuka stayed in touch the longest, but even they didn't last for more than a few months.

It didn't help that I put in no effort from my end. Not being practically forced to see the same people every day makes you realise just how much friendship relies on necessity. Long-distance friendships are fruitless. When there is too much effort involved to keep it up, then there is simply no point in maintaining the farce.

As for me, I didn't do very well at university. If you shun people as a high school kid and spend your time studying and doing whatever, you at least guarantee yourself decent grades. In university, that's no longer as true. The schoolwork is harder to figure out on your own. I didn't join a club and I avoided study circles; in the end, I barely scraped a pass. Then I was out in the real world. I wasn't ready for it. But the thing about feeling ready is that you only ever feel that way after the need for it has passed.

So somehow, without my ever noticing, I was shoved into the position of a working adult. Even though I hated my youth, I hated responsibilities too, but the transition was quicker than I expected because I simply had no choice in the matter. I never managed to keep a full-time job, just a string of miserable part-time jobs. Before I knew it, every last shred of my youth was gone. Funnily enough, I never felt any older.

For example: as an adult, I still don't care much for socialising. I especially don't like drinking. I don't attend parties and I certainly don't go out for sushi with my boss after work.

Sometimes, I do think about high school. I have never met a man as beautiful and attractive as Totsuka Saika, for instance, or a woman as sharp-tongued as Yukinoshita. But these are pointless thoughts.

At least, that was how it felt to me until the week after my twenty-seventh birthday.

It was mid-August and I was prone to staying inside all day because of all the sweltering heat. When the phone rang, I was too lazy to move from my spot next to the fan in order to answer it. Besides, I don't answer the phone even when I'm near it. I just let it ring out and anyone who has something important to say will leave a message, I'm sure. (It's usually just my sister, who has an extraordinary talent in verbal vomit.) I have no interest in talking to telemarketers and prank callers.

That day, someone did leave a message and it was not my sister.

"Hello, this is Hayama Hayato. Is this Hikigaya Hachiman's number? We're organising a high school reunion for Class 2-F – from Soubu High. You might remember me. Actually, I still remember you very well, Hikigaya. It would be good if we could all catch up. Sorry if I've made a mistake calling this line. I'd appreciate it if you could call me back. My number is…"

My ears pricked to attention. How could I forget Hayama? He had been the school's Pretty Boy, the apple of everyone's eye, the insufferable nice guy who could never turn his back on anybody. If there was anybody who would organise a class reunion, it would be him.

None of it interested me very much, to be honest. I did vaguely wonder how so-and-so was doing from time to time, but it extended to nothing more than idle curiosity. Besides, the idea of class reunions rubs me the wrong way in general. It's really just a matter of comparing one's status – _oh look how far I've gotten in life now! Look at this hot babe and expensive car I own! _And then everyone gets drunk and starts laughing about stupid in-jokes that stopped being funny ten years ago. No, I had absolutely no interest in hyping up the importance of my youth.

So I didn't ring Hayama back and that was the end of that, I thought. Or at least that was how it seemed.

The next day, I got another call.

"Um, hi? This is Totsuka Saika. I'm not sure if you remember me…"

The power of moe compelled me. Immediately, I picked up the phone. "Hikigaya speaking."

"Oh, hello, Hachiman! It's so nice to hear from you again!"

Not as nice as it is to hear from _you_, I thought.

"Are you coming to our class reunion?" asked Totsuka cheerfully. He was the same flower maiden I remembered him as.

"Oh yes," I said. "Oh, yes, yes, yes I'm coming. No one would ever dream I wouldn't go."

"That's a relief. I'm looking forward to seeing you!"

We talked for a bit.

"You hang up first," Totsuka said at length.

"Oh no, you hang up," I said.

"No, you hang up! I'd feel rude if I did it first!"

"No, no, I insist you hang up first!"

Eventually, Totsuka hung up. It took a while for me to stop feeling giddy, but when I did, I groaned inwardly at the thought of what I had agreed to.

To cut a long story short, I did end up going to that class reunion. I saw some familiar faces, ate some food and then tried to leave early. My old school companions – at least the ones whom I still remembered – had mostly turned out as expected, although some things I learned did surprise me.

FACT: Hayama is now a successful businessman. He married Miura Yumiko, and the two of them turned out to be the only high school sweethearts in the gathering. They also brought along their four-year-old daughter, who was the object of much unnecessary cooing and coddling from almost all the adults present. (I hate kids.) The daughter did not have much to say and merely clung adoringly to her father's side the whole time. When Yumiko put on a fake smile and asked the girl to give her mother a hug, she petulantly shook her head. She'll probably be a slut when she grows up.

Also a FACT: Zaimokuza, my former schoolmate and obnoxious sufferer of chuunibyou, is now an office worker. He has gained more weight around his middle. He talks in statistics, only holds opinions on the weather and the current state of government, and now possesses no imagination whatsoever.

Unfortunately a FACT: Although still slim and attractive in a metrosexual kind of way, Totsuka Saika is unquestionably a man. He has grown a short beard and when he lit a cigarette in front of me, I felt all my hopes and dreams shatter before my watery, smoke-filled eyes.

I thought I'd seen all there was to see and was just sneaking out the door when Yuigahama burst in, panting, having run all the way in heels. Her hair was longer and her features had aged, but I knew it was her straight away. Her face was still round and her cheeks were still full, and though she had gained some weight in all the typical places for a woman, she was still in essence the same cheerful girl she had been as a teenager.

Her eyes immediately fell on me. "Oh, hello, Hikki! It's been a long time, hasn't it?" She waved to me enthusiastically. The fact that we had been caught up in mutual feelings of unrequited love for each other back in high school seemed especially silly to me at that moment and I could only nod curtly in reply. "I see you haven't changed much!" she said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I grumbled, but Yuigahama merely laughed and patted me on the back.

"There's no rush, Hikki! Let's talk!" And she steered me back where everyone was sitting.

By then, everyone had more or less split off from the main gathering and had formed their own cliques, identical to what they had been in high school. Those who had brought their kids along had already gone home before the night could mature much further. It was 9:30pm. The only person I still recognised was Totsuka, whom I tried not to look very hard at. That left me alone with Yuigahama.

"Oh, Hikki, it's been so long!" said Yuigahama as she popped open a sakè bottle and casually poured herself a drink. "How've you been? There is _so _much we need to catch up on! How's your sister?"

"As annoying and intrusive as ever." She'd been pestering me to join the dating scene ever since she'd gotten married, as if being handcuffed to a man in legal terms gave her moral superiority over anyone who was single.

Thinking of my sister's wedlock, though, I was reminded of another thought. I glanced at Yuigahama's left hand; there was no ring on any of her fingers.

Talking to Yuigahama again was very much a case of déjà vu. As a woman, she was still as bright and eager to please as I remembered her. That was not necessarily a bad thing. For all the suspicion and cynicism with which I have regarded "nice girls" throughout my life, I knew Yuigahama to be genuinely kind-hearted and uncritical of her own sex. That she became a PR representative of a woman's magazine came as no surprise to me. It had always been Yuigahama's lot in life to be shaped by the opinions of those around her.

"Say, why were you late?" I asked her, changing the subject from careers to something of more immediate relevance.

"Oh," said Yuigahama with a sheepish laugh. And then, as if she were turning the knob of a lamp, the shine in her eyes dulled and the smile slipped from her face. "I went to see Yukinon – you know, Yukinoshita Yukino."

I had noticed that Yukinoshita was absent from the reunion. I had simply assumed that she would not have bothered with a petty time-wasting activity like this. Perhaps if she had been there, I might have been inclined to stay around a little longer. Or would I have rather "stayed the hell away"? Hm.

Much as I hate to admit it, you see, much of my high school experience was shaped by her.

"She was being her ornery self, I suppose," I said, trying not to betray my interest.

"She's changed," Yuigahama said with a shiver.

How interesting, I thought. This was probably the only marginally interesting thing I'd heard since the reunion started. So Yukinoshita Yukino had changed.

"How so?"

"Oh," said Yuigahama, blushing. "I guess you haven't seen her in the last couple of years? We only got in contact recently and, well…"

Yes, yes, get to the point, darling.

"…she's so _docile_," Yuigahama finished, and for a moment, she let the statement hang. But like most women, however, she had a habit of immediately rushing to explain every little thing she said. She had no appreciation for the elegance of brevity. "I mean, she always did have a softer side to her even in high school, but now she's different, you know? It definitely feels different. It's like she's tired with everything. She said she didn't want to come to any high school reunion when it wasn't even her class meeting up. Even when I said, 'But it's _Hikki's _old class!' she just said she wanted to stay home."

"Sounds to me as if she's as conceited as ever," I said.

"It's just strange seeing her so submissive towards her husband. I always thought Yukinon would be on equal terms with whoever she married."

If that was true, I thought, then Yukinoshita disappointed me. In that case, it was a good thing I had not come across her today.

Yet even as I thought that, I knew it was not entirely true. I can't say that I know what the current Yukinoshita is like, but the Yukinoshita that I knew in high school used her silence only to prove her dissatisfaction. At some point, I realised her smugness betrayed feelings of fondness distinct from the usual fancies men and women entertain when it comes to the opposite sex. Even her weakness had a sense of dignity about it. I had always found that part of her refreshing.

"Oh, but don't let what I say put you off seeing her!" Yuigahama was saying. "I was hoping to catch up with you so we could see Yukinon together. It'll be just like the old days!"

"I'm not interested in any nostalgia trips," I said, but my protest was feeble. The longer I stayed, the more my mind lingered on the past. In spite of myself, some part of me thought: it wouldn't _hurt. _

"Hikki!" said Yuigahama, giggling. "Stop hiding your true feelings! You care about Yukinon, don't you? I've always believed you were a kind person at heart."

But Yuigahama had pushed me too far in one direction. I shook my head and stood up. "Enough, Yuigahama. I'm tired." I was being brusque, but that was just the way I was. Yuigahama huffed at me, but even now she understood my essential makeup.

"Well, alright," said Yuigahama, a little doubtfully. "Why don't we exchange numbers and we can meet up for tea sometime when you're up for it?" She was still pushy in a well-intentioned way, but at least she knew when to stand back. The empathy showed in her eyes.

I agreed to that, because I still had no reservations about liking Yuigahama, but I already knew it was just a polite gesture on my part. If we had drifted when we were teenagers, then there was nothing keeping us together now as adults besides the mere whims of nostalgia.

Yuigahama smiled, though, as if she was satisfied, and suddenly I thought of Yukinoshita. I could see her in my mind's eye. Where everyone else's high school selves seemed vague and indistinct, Yukinoshita was clear and vivid as if I had only seen her yesterday. I turned back to Yuigahama and opened my mouth, my lips quivering. She looked at me expectantly. Quickly, I turned my head away with a sigh. It was all silly, I told myself. Absolutely silly.

No matter how much time had passed or how much things had changed, I wanted to see Yukinoshita. It came down to the two of us.

She was the only one who mattered now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Two: My Dating Prospects Were Wrong As I Expected**

At this point, you might think that the story is heading in a particular direction that isn't very difficult to figure out at all, but I should point out that it certainly didn't feel that way from where I stood. Let me explain. Romantically, I was never very interested in Yukinoshita (or, I should say, I was never _more _interested in her than anyone else, since I don't believe in "friendship" between a man and a woman) but she had a way of getting under your skin. Everyone knew about her, whether they liked her or not. The fact that Yuigahama brought her up at all shows that she must have felt the same way.

We spoke to each other a lot back in high school. In fact, my high school memories mostly involve the verbal back-and-forths we had in an empty classroom. I'd never met anyone so willing to understand my point of view just for the sake of lampooning it. If Yukinoshita had been a man, I think I would have been just as interested in what she had to say, because you can't help but be interested in people who go out of their way to piss you off in a clever manner.

But even so, my strong desire to see her again had died down to a dull throb by the next day. I put my feelings down to the context of the occasion and not as something that would last. I didn't hear back from anyone at the reunion. Besides a few select individuals, no one remembered who I was. To me, that just reinforced the ephemerality of it all.

In the meantime, my sister bugged me constantly about the reunion. It had nothing to do with her whatsoever and still she showed more interest in it than I did.

"Did you see what's-her-name?" she asked me the next day.

"It depends on who what's-her-name is."

"You know! What's-her-name! A woman!"

My sister Komachi, as you can see, is a very eloquent and articulate person.

"The one whose dog you rescued that one time and then you ended up in hospital looking like a mummy?" Komachi added, after some thought.

Urgh, those memories.

"Yuigahama, you mean. Yeah, I met her."

"How was she? Was she different? Was she married?"

"My high school reunion was not a speed dating venue."

The funny thing about sibling relationships: people seem to think that siblings permanently drift as they age and that little sisters stop being brocons at around the same time they stop being jailbait. That's not necessarily true, per se. While Komachi ended up marrying a guy who is nothing like me, that never stopped her from checking up on me in our adult years. After her marriage, which came only months after our father's death, she had taken it upon herself to reconnect with me and I now hear from her at least once a fortnight. I hate to admit it, but as an adult I spend more time going out with my little sister than with any other woman. It's not an unhealthy relationship we have; I'm just a loner. My sister is the only one who can stand me for more than a few hours at a time. Other than that, I'm a very attractive, charming guy.

"You know, if Yui-san isn't married, I think she might have her eye on you, especially if she's asking to meet up with you," Komachi was saying.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I don't want to get married." I said it flatly, not as a question.

"A couple of times," Komachi said airily. "But everyone's gotta settle down sometime."

"I'm already settled. In fact, I'm so settled you might say I'm already married in spirit."

"Hmph." My sister decided to change the topic. "What about that rich girl you used to hang out with? The really beautiful one?"

"Didn't see her."

"Oh, wonder what happened to her, huh…"

Gradually, my sister's interest in the conversation lilted and I had the space to think.

These days, I don't have anything against marriage as an idea. It just doesn't suit _me; _I know I'm not a very easy person to live with. Deep down, I knew my sister understood that all I wanted was to keep out of trouble. But how else could her concern for me take shape? She was an incorrigible romantic. She fell in love often – and hard. I can still remember how much she bawled whenever she broke up with her boyfriend. It wasn't as if I could pat her on the head and say "There, there", so I just acted like normal to her. It took her a long time to form more realistic expectations about relationships, so when she got married to a man she said she was genuinely comfortable with, it felt to me as if she had taken a significant step with her life.

But that was her and this was me. I am a creature of habit. I have no need to waste my evenings arguing with a woman for spending too much on shoes. Since I would not budge on this issue, I thought my sister would give up pestering me after our conversation started looping, and seemingly enough, she did.

The next thing I knew, however, was that she had picked my pocket and was thumbing through the contacts on my phone. This did not take her long; there were only about ten names on the list.

"What are you doing?" I demanded exasperatedly.

"Yui-san!" she said brightly into the phone. "This is Komachi, Hachiman's sister!"

I tried to snatch the phone away from my sister but she turned away and kept on talking, the grin taking up three-quarters of her face.

"Oh, yes! Come on down, we're waiting for you!" Now she was telling Yuigahama about the family restaurant we were at. (It was Saizeriya, by the way, an Italian-style restaurant still as popular as ever among high school and middle school students.) Komachi turned back to me with a smirk and closed the phone when she was done.

I'd already decided that I was not to be goaded any further. "Do what you want," I said, and shrugged. It wasn't as if I was _avoiding _anyone. Still… "I'll just go on home now and leave you to it."

"Not so fast, bucko," said Komachi, leaning over the table and yanking me by the ear. Ouch, that hurt. "I just wish you'd be sociable."

Trust me: there is no advantage in having a little sister.

I sighed and stayed put.

As it turned out, we didn't wait long. Yuigahama walked into Saizeriya about twenty minutes later, turning her head around until she saw where we were sitting. "Hi there, Hikki! And Hikki's little sister! Komachi-chan!"

And so I met Yuigahama for the second time as an adult.

Now that the novelty of seeing an old friend again had faded, I could look into Yuigahama's face without seeing as much of the ghost of her teenage self. She dressed fashionably yet modestly, and I saw that she wore some light makeup that looked good on her. She was no longer attractive in the shallow way teenage girls often are; she had ripened instead of bloomed.

Yuigahama, I felt, was someone who had learned to embrace her homeliness. When she smiled, it was not just her cheerfulness that showed in her eyes. On closer observation, she withheld herself a little. Her smiles betrayed cautious optimism and an awareness of all of life's irritating lessons. And yet for all that, she struck me as genuine – or perhaps it was _because _of that.

I may be rotten, but I know good people when I see them.

For a while, Yuigahama and I talked pleasantly enough of small matters. I learned she lived Osaka now and had come to stay in Chiba for the weekend because of the class reunion. Where I had not moved from our hometown in all my twenty-seven years, Yuigahama had lived for two years in America and, only several months ago, stayed a month in Australia. She kept a staggering amount of pictures on her phone to show me. Most of them showed her posing at arbitrary junctures, with mildly bemused Australians standing in the background. About half the photos also included a young Caucasian man, who slouched and who had a face predisposed towards scowling, although he smiled in the photos.

"Who's that?" asked my sister, although I already had an idea about who it was, despite having never met him in my life.

"That's my ex-boyfriend," Yuigahama answered, a little sheepishly.

"So you're single now?" Komachi asked bluntly, to which Yuigahama scratched her head and responded with a muted "Yeah."

I wasn't surprised. Yuigahama had always struck me as the kind of person who would forever be stuck with relationship difficulties. She worked too hard to please. And her taste in men was downright deplorable. From the looks of it, the breakup had happened fairly recently.

"Anyway, that's not the point of today," Yuigahama said firmly, attempting to steer the conversation away from her love life. "There's a reason I wanted to see you before I went back to Osaka."

Komachi's ears twitched with interest. I looked at Yuigahama and said, "Huh?"

Yuigahama took a deep breath before launching into her explanation. "Well, you know what I was saying about Yukinon yesterday? I met up with her before the class reunion. She's busy today and I have to go back home tomorrow, so I wanted to give you this."

She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. I took it and opened it up. Komachi peered over my shoulder like a hawk.

"What is this?" I asked.

"It's Yukinon's number," Yuigahama said brightly. "You should give her a ring. I'm sure she'd love to talk to you."

"I doubt it."

If Yuigahama had been so late to the class reunion, I could only imagine just how much time she must have spent trying to convince Yukinoshita to come along - to absolutely no avail.

"Oh, don't be like that," Yuigahama huffed. Then her face softened and she sighed. "You know, looking back, I think you and Yukinon were the only two people I really counted as my friends in high school."

I remembered how Yuigahama used to send me texts every day after the end of high school. I was the one who never responded. I hadn't wanted to lead her on.

Eventually, she gave up, and I was too sick with shame to ask her to continue sending me her trivial messages.

Just the memory of it made it hard for me to look her in the eye. My gaze dropped to the coffee in my hand. "I-I…" I couldn't muster any words.

"It's okay, Hikki," Yuigahama said gently, as if I was the one who needed comforting after all the misery I had put her through. "It was my fault for making things awkward. I'm happy you were honest."

I wondered how long it had taken her to "get over" me? How much had I hurt her? That seemed like the wrong thing to ask, so I said nothing at all.

Finally, I looked up at her face. She was smiling contentedly. Relief washed through me, but I clenched my teeth.

Even now, I couldn't believe that a girl like her had seen anything to desire in a loner like me.

"Hikki," Yuigahama said, calling me by that stupid nickname only she had ever used. "You're the same as Yukinon, you know that? You're so shy. You don't have to be like that, you know. I bet Yukinon's just the same way you are."

She didn't have to repeat herself there. I only grunted in reply.

She laughed and patted me on the shoulder. "I'm glad we could meet again, you know. I really am."

And upon making that distinctly cheesy statement, Yuigahama checked the time on her phone and announced that she had to get going. Cheerfully, she waved goodbye to me and my sister.

"Next time I'm in the area, let's meet up again," she said to me.

As soon as she was gone, my sister looked at me dryly.

"She's got her claws stuck into you," she declared with her infinite self-perceived wisdom.

This time, I could somewhat see her point.

I was left with the uncomfortable notion that, for all the years Yuigahama and I had accumulated in baggage, things like "feelings" never had an ending to them. Or a beginning, either. I had no idea when all of this had started. Maybe the day I rescued her dog?

I had been unable to keep my approval for Yuigahama from showing during our meeting and so my sister persisted in pressing me on my feelings for her all the way back to the station.

"No," I had to tell her. "I'm not interested in doing anything. It doesn't work like that."

Komachi didn't understand what I said – I hadn't expected her to.

When I was home alone, I thought of the youth romantic comedy my high school life had almost been. Yuigahama had always had her motives for chasing me and I had my motives to reset them. It was a series of chanceful events that had brought us so close. If I had believed in fate, I would have attributed it all to that.

Despite myself, I stared at Yuigahama's gift to me: the crumpled piece of paper with Yukinoshita's number on it. Soon enough, I didn't even need the paper anymore; I had memorised the number. Normally, I spent my evenings reading a book or watching television or something, but that evening I couldn't get myself to concentrate on anything. I could only replay that conversation with Yuigahama over and over in my mind. I wondered how Yuigahama was doing these days, how her ex-boyfriend had treated her, whether she was as alone in her house as I was right now.

And then I thought of Yukinoshita. I thought about how pointless it was to think about her now when I knew nothing about her. Something slid and squirmed in my stomach when I imagined her in all her cold and proud beauty, and I put that down to the very idea of Yukinoshita Yukino repulsing me. My heart beat quickly in my chest and the hands clutching my phone began to sweat. I was as restless as an elementary schoolboy during an assembly.

Let's be perfectly clear about this: I didn't dial Yukinoshita's number. Oh no, I never did anything of the sort. I picked up my phone and brought it close to my face, but I didn't dial the number.

You see, I wasn't the one who rang Yukinoshita. That night, she rang me first.

* * *

><p>Her surname was no longer 'Yukinoshita', but it is impossible for me to think of her as anyone but who she had once been – the girl I had unwittingly sanctified in my memory. As I mentioned before, I recognised her voice immediately, even after all these years.<p>

"Well, Hikigaya-kun, I hope you remember me," she said.

"I imagine Yuigahama gave you my number," I said, sitting down on the couch. I already knew then that this was going to be a long conversation. Suddenly, I was very calm.

"Yes," said Yukinoshita. "She did."

Her silence after she uttered those words told me more about how she had been than any speech she could have prepared. I didn't bother asking the question. I could feel her loneliness within myself.

Instead, I asked, "Why now?"

She laughed, a little scornfully. "You think after all these years I've been living like a hermit, thinking of you? The idea only came to me yesterday."

As expected. Although Yuigahama had told me Yukinoshita had changed, the side Yukinoshita chose to reveal to me at that moment was something I recognised in all of its elegant bitterness.

"What did Yuigahama say about me?" I asked, feeling curious.

"She said you hadn't changed. I took that to mean you're still a pretentious ass who lacks a female companion even in his old age."

"Let me remind you I'm as old as you are. You're no spring chicken yourself."

"Oh, so you've fallen to the level of insulting a woman's age? You're worse than I thought, Hikigaya Hachiman."

"I can tell you're really enjoying pouring vitriol onto me," I said dryly.

"It has been a while," she answered lightly.

"Something tells me you've been preparing these comebacks for the last ten years."

I was settling into the conversation. My mind was moving quickly, making random connections I could never have previously conceived. I felt light on my feet. Perhaps I missed Yukinoshita more than I thought I did.

"I didn't prepare for this," Yukinoshita insisted calmly. "It's all coming back to me now. Insulting you is more intellectually stimulating than playing Sudoku, at least."

"You don't talk like this with your husband?"

"Well, no," Yukinoshita admitted. "Not generally."

She paused for a moment.

"I suppose that is because you are my pack horse," she said.

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

Hearing my exasperation, Yukinoshita laughed. Her tone sounded warm and affectionate, more so than earlier.

We talked long into the night after that. I learned in precise detail what Yukinoshita had done after she had left high school. At that point, our distribution of dialogue became distinctly uneven. Yukinoshita talked more and more, not because she particularly liked the sound of her own voice (although maybe that was part of it) but because once she had started, she could not stop herself.

From the beginning, she had spent more time in Europe than she had planned to. Studying abroad for a year was something she had planned to do in high school – or rather it was planned for her. But she had decided not to go in her third year. She had become too attached to high school, to the Service Club and to her friends. (Oh yes, Yukinoshita admitted to me frankly. She had always considered me a friend. It seemed simple-minded to say that out loud, though, and I agreed – it would have been a stupid move back then.)

But Yukinoshita did want to study abroad at some point because this was what her sister had done. She couldn't very well delay it for more than a year. So she went and she excelled. In fact, she got a scholarship for further study at Cambridge University. The opportunities kept piling and she knew it would seem foolish not to take them. Eventually, she got married, applied for citizenship and worked her way up in the business world.

"I did come back to Japan," she said, "but it was never for very long, only to see my family."

Of course, Yukinoshita had no time or incentive to see me in particular. Too much time had elapsed since we had last seen each other. Other times, she simply forgot.

"What an illustrious life you live," I said, and I meant that. I could expect no less from Yukinoshita Yukino.

Looking back, I can hardly believe that Yukinoshita and I had ever considered each other 'friends' or saw each other every day. The air we breathed was of different molecules.

"I just have one question," I said, because a sudden thought had occurred to me. "Did you outdo your sister?"

"I did," said Yukinoshita. In that moment, she sounded tired, as if she didn't want to talk about it.

"I see," I answered. There was not much else that could have been said. "You've rambled for a long time." A glance at the clock told me it was already a quarter past eleven.

"Did the story of my life not interest you, Hikigaya-kun?"

"It doesn't surprise me, that's all."

"I thought that's what you'd say."

Was this, I wondered, what the paths of our life had led to? To a moment where we could look back and say, "That was just as expected"? There are no plot twists in life, only turns, however jarring they may seem in the moment.

"I suppose you think the same about me," I said.

Yukinoshita laughed and I took that as a yes. "Hikigaya-kun," she said after a moment, and even though my house was normally devoid of small distractions, it felt as if everything beyond Yukinoshita's voice had become an abstraction. "Isn't it a comfort knowing when something is wrong as expected?"

* * *

><p>It was past midnight when we finally hung up on each other. It did not feel as if we had said enough. We had cast out everything in our hands and what had sprouted was another stream of conversations we could have still exchanged. One thing had led to another and nothing ever ended. I went to bed feeling both tired and awake, the contradictions swirling without ever taking shape in my mind.<p>

I was never in that moment more intensely aware of my own isolation.

When I first met Yukinoshita, I thought that her loneliness was the same as mine, because as it was, loneliness suited me just fine. But that wasn't true. Yukinoshita is a consummate liar.

I knew her too well, her lies and her dignity all mixed up into one. The more I knew her, the more I felt betrayed by her. I knew what must have possessed her so that she would call me. Her high-minded ideas would never fool me.

She was wrong, I decided. There is no comfort in things turning out as you expect. There is only smug awareness, followed by monotony. I knew those last two things only too well. I had lived a whole life of it.

By now, I knew nothing else.

Even now, despite everything I told myself, I longed vaguely for something beyond my own comprehension.

Because when Yukinoshita had said, "I will call you later," I think I knew, even then, where all of this might lead. I had my expectations.

And so I slept, briefly and fitfully, not even bothering to dream.


	3. Chapter 3

**Three: Yukinoshita Yukino's Proposal Was Wrong As Expected**

In the morning, I got a call from Hayama of all people.

"I just wanted to say thanks for coming to the reunion, Hikitani. I didn't think you'd come. I hope you enjoyed yourself."

My name isn't Hikitani. You had it right before.

Hayama went on to say to my non-responsive answering machine that he had enjoyed catching up with me, and then-

"I'm sorry about Yukino. I couldn't get her to come, no matter what I said."

I vaguely recalled that Hayama and Yukinoshita had known each other since grade school. Their parents were business partners - or something like that.

"It turned out exactly as expected, but I can't help but feel that if she came, it would have been different. But I guess it shouldn't bother you that much. After all, the two of you have a lot in common."

_Bull fucking shit_, I thought. I heard Hayama chuckle dryly.

"Well, ring me back if you ever need anything," he finished. "I'll be happy to hear from you."

He hung up and I heard the beep of the receiver ring into silence.

It was all a polite gesture on Hayama's part, but I knew he meant it sincerely. That being said, I don't think he had ever really _liked _me very much; we were certainly not making any daisy chains together. We were too different.

It's surprising how very little people change after they leave high school. Take the publishing company I'm working at, for instance. It's still very much the same petty social hierarchy one would find in a school or prison (the meaning of both words being the same to begin with). No matter where you go, there are still Hayamas and Yuigahamas, Miuras and Zaimokuzas.

I've gotten tired of the same faces. There is no fun now, as there was in my high school days, in watching people interact from my isolated position and pretending I understood the rules they lived by.

These days, I don't speak to my work colleagues and they don't speak to me. In fact, I don't even bother remembering their names. Why should I? As a casual worker, I don't get any work benefits. The small-time company I work at is no Kodansha, and that's no company secret. If they went bust, people like me would be the first to get laid off. I'd have to scrounge around for some other job, like I always have. I'm not holding my breath for a permanent position and neither is anybody else on my shift, although they're all oh-so-nice it's a little tiring to watch.

Hayama, though… maybe it was because he was the first I really spoke to of his kind, but past a certain point he didn't irritate me too much. Ever since I had known him, Hayama lived under the weight of a hero complex. Once, I had asked him cynically if helping people was something he did for his ego. He did not get offended. Instead, he just looked at me wearily and said, "Do you have that little faith in people?"

It took me a long time to work out that Hayama did not necessarily enjoy helping others. It was a compulsion. And when he could not succeed in helping, he despaired.

There were times, I admit, when I felt some of his despair.

I didn't answer Hayama's call at the time, but I was aware of the gesture and I responded to it in my own way – with silence. For Hayama walked a path of light and I trudged down my own bleak road and even if we met at an intersection, he was right and I was wrong.

* * *

><p>Hayama was certainly wrong about some things, though. I did a bit of research on Yukinoshita, and what Google-sensei told me was not in the least bit surprising.<p>

Last year, Yukinoshita had been one of Japan's top ten richest women. You'd think a woman like her would be in the news often or at least make some appearances on those irritating variety shows, but Yukinoshita seemed to have mostly kept to herself, having quietly accumulated her wealth over the years through her investments.

After digging around, I learned that she had started a charity, which in all likelihood she managed personally. The point of it was to assist children from lower socioeconomic backgrounds by donating them state-of-the-art technology from Yukinoshita's own electronics company. As you'd expect from Yukinoshita Yukino, she believed wholeheartedly in the liberating power of education and technology.

There was no way I could selfishly criticise a sentiment as genuine as hers. After all, I could never achieve half of what she had. Didn't Yukinoshita have far better things to do with her life than talk to me?

I don't even mean that in a self-deprecating way. We're talking about a twenty-seven year-old woman who managed her own charity and was the vice-chairwoman of an electronics company here.

And so for a short while after our phone conversation, I was stunned we had even spoken to each other at all. Quite frankly, I was in a daze. Even so, I expected her to call. Yukinoshita didn't break her promises.

I heard from her the next night, and the night after that.

And the night after that.

"So let me get this straight," Yukinoshita said to me one day, after she asked me about what sort of work I was doing these days. "You're a Freeter?"

"I'd prefer it if you didn't use that word," I sniffed.

I might have been on speaking terms with Yukinoshita, but she certainly wasn't above insulting me.

Or at least that was how I thought of her, but Yukinoshita made no real comment on the matter. She simply sighed softly and said, "I see."

"I know I might have said something like 'To work is to lose', but that was when I was younger, okay?"

"In other words, your naïve ideals failed to put food into your mouth."

"For some reason, it pisses me off when you phrase it like that. And like you can really talk," I added.

I expected her to get haughty and defensive, but she only said, "I'm aware." I heard her hesitate, as if there was something more she wanted to say, but she let the statement hang.

Then she coughed and changed the subject.

"You've never had a girlfriend or anything, have you, Hikigaya-kun?"

"Why do you ask?" I questioned her suspiciously.

"I want to see if you've lived up to my worst expectations," Yukinoshita said, as if she was talking to a naughty nephew.

"Well, I haven't had a girlfriend," I said.

Yukinoshita laughed in the same way that she smirked. I knew the way her lips would have formed if I could have seen them.

"But it's not as if I don't know a thing about relationships," I added. "For example, I love myself."

"Even down to your dead fish eyes?"

"_Especially _my dead fish eyes. The way I see it, if you love someone else, you're just loving a mirror. You want someone to love you so you can love yourself. May as well cut the middle man."

"As expected from someone who has been alone for as long as he has been alive."

I grumbled. "What's brought this on? Trying to _change _me, Yukinoshita?"

"Oh no, I know that wouldn't work. No matter how persuasive my arguments are, it would be no use to someone who doesn't listen. It's like giving brains to a monument."

"Even so, are you feeling sorry for me, Yukinoshita?"

An irrational twinge of annoyance came over me as I uttered that.

"No, I'm simply marvelling at how little your ideas changed in all this time," Yukinoshita said. "I used to think you were somewhat clever in a perverse kind of way."

"Is that how little you respected me?"

"No, I respected you. Even so, I thought you were wrong."

Join the crowd, Yukinoshita.

"I'm sorry that my infallible logic could not satiate you," I said.

"No, it wasn't that," Yukinoshita answered with a sigh. "It was your love that was wrong, or more like your lack of it."

I paused and thought about that. Finally, I snorted.

"My youth romantic comedy, you mean."

I swore I could hear her smile.

It seemed we had finally gotten to where Yukinoshita wanted to be in the conversation. I knew where she had been trying to push me.

"Don't you think the endings to those sorts of stories feel pitiful in a way?"

"Tell me about it," I said. "As soon as the main characters get together, they lose all their individuality."

"Hikigaya-kun, I've been wondering to this day. Did you always believe that was the result of bad writing or because that was the truth?"

"What did _you _think?"

"I always thought romance novelists had no idea how to write," she said.

"I thought it was the truth," I said, thinking of Komachi and all the married couples I knew of, all the dead ends I had encountered.

"I see," Yukinoshita said softly. "Yes," she seemed to muse aloud. "Yes, I believe you were wrong."

"I'd like to hear your reasoning on that."

Yukinoshita said, "By their very form, stories must give love an ending." She paused. "But life isn't a story."

"We _make _life into a story," I retorted.

"No," said Yukinoshita. "You chose to run away."

"I don't why any of that should bother you."

"I don't fully know either," Yukinoshita admitted, "but it bothers me."

I could hear our silence speak a thousand languages.

These were the typical conversations Yukinoshita and I exchanged. They had no beginnings or endings; they simply happened.

I said, "Don't talk to me as if I were responsible for everything. You made your choice too."

"I made my choice about what?" Her tone was mock-innocent.

My throat suddenly went dry.

"About us," I answered, half-mumbling.

"Hikigaya-kun," she sniffed, and I could tell she was laughing at me on the inside. "Whatever made you think I had the remotest shred of interest in your inner turmoil? I'm talking about Yuigahama-san."

I suppose it was a testament to Yukinoshita's power with words that she could still make me feel guilt over something which no longer mattered. She had never forgiven me for hurting Yuigahama as I had. She knew that I had not chosen a simple action but a way of life.

I fell back to my same, tired defence.

"It's not a big deal," I said.

"That's a lie," Yukinoshita said resolutely. "You would not be talking to me if you really thought it did not matter. And neither would I be talking to you," she added.

I was no longer in the mood to argue with her. Instead, I sighed. "You're in the same position I'm in, aren't you?"

Yukinoshita paused for a long, drawn-out moment. I felt my heartbeat quicken.

"Yes," she said finally. I could feel the entire weight of her regrets in that single, softly uttered word.

* * *

><p>It continued.<p>

We decided to meet in Tokyo, at Shinjuku Station, so that we could carry on the conversations that had no endings between us. It was the first time we would meet in years, and yet it was no reunion. The Service Club was long gone now; there was no sense of obligation or duty to hide behind now. We no longer bothered with the pretense.

That day, I discovered that, physically speaking, Yukinoshita had changed very little. I had always thought that there was a nymph-like ageless beauty to her, but I suppose that's not quite right. She did age. But she had grown into her beauty, and even now, there was something queenly about the way she carried herself. It seeped down to her very pores.

When she looked at me, I could still feel those sharp, knowing eyes peering right through me. She'd always had eyes too old for someone of her age and now they fit her just right. I felt as if I'd always known this Yukinoshita, and I did.

We met in a café and our conversations were no different from the ones we had over the phone. When I was with her, the general noise and chatter of the outside world faded away.

We talked for a long time.

Finally, one of the waitresses approached us and said, "It's closing time."

That startled us, but when I looked out the window I could see the sun setting. We had not moved from our seats for hours. We were frozen in a world where time moved on without us.

I looked back at Yukinoshita, who had already stood up. She was smiling at me gently and I thought she looked more beautiful now than she did at the prime of her youth.

"Have we always been like this?" she murmured aloud.

I didn't answer her question. "Are we going to do this again?" I asked numbly.

"Yes," she said, and with that we parted ways for the time being.

I wondered then, as I do now, if it was already too late for us. I wondered if I could still back away and retreat into myself, whether this was the path I had chosen.

I met with Yukinoshita every weekend, with whom I never did anything more than talk. Everything would have been all right if it was the three of us in the same room together. But it wasn't; one of the pieces of the puzzle was missing.

One day, about a month after all of this had started, Yukinoshita told me about her husband.

"We're not very close," she admitted.

"I can see that," I said. I could hardly imagine Yukinoshita being close to anyone, really.

"He works hard and he's intelligent, although I don't suppose you would like him if you met him."

"Is he like Hayama?"

"No," said Yukinoshita. "He's quiet. I guess you'd call him a scholarly type."

"Sounds like the type of person you'd walk all over."

"Perhaps," said Yukinoshita, smiling. "I don't give him that benefit."

I scowled. "Don't talk about verbal abuse as if it's a special talent."

Right now, Yukinoshita's husband was out of the country on a business-related matter. If he was around, Yukinoshita would probably not have so much time on her hands.

"Don't complain to me about your marriage problems," I said. I wanted to stay far away from that.

"Oh no, there are no problems. We get along well. Because from the very start, it was a transaction of mutual gain."

That's one way to describe marriage, I suppose.

Or the other way: a transaction of mutual loss.

"An arranged marriage, huh?"

"No, it was my choice."

"…then why?"

"For the same reason I started the Service Club."

That made me sit up and pay attention to her at last.

"Why _did _you start the Service Club?"

Yukinoshita closed her eyes. I admired her long eyelashes; they seemed so sharp and so delicate at the same time. I wanted to reach out and touch them with my hands, tear them apart, make them anew.

Yukinoshita sighed heavily, and once again her eyelashes fluttered as her eyes flickered back open. She looked straight at me, but her gaze was dim and hazy, drunk with remembrances of what had once been. "I wanted to be remembered," she said.

I didn't say anything.

Yukinoshita went on in a low voice: "I am not a kind person, Hikigaya-kun. Kindness does not come naturally to me. Everything I have ever done in my life was for myself alone. And to start the Service Club, so that I could run away from my selfishness, that too was a self-serving act."

My mind went back to our high school days, to all the people we had helped out and all the various odd jobs we had completed. In the end, our deeds had barely made a ripple on those around us. We never changed the world.

But even so, we were at peace. By that, I mean we felt pretty good about ourselves and so did the others around us. We didn't think about the consequences of our actions back then, after all. We were just a couple of teenagers wasting time in the most pleasant way that we could think of.

"So what? It's not a bad thing."

But Yukinoshita continued. "Once I left that club behind, I felt I had reverted to my old self. I studied at Cambridge. I started up a joint enterprise." She looked at me with steely eyes. "I did it all for myself."

"What about your sister?" I asked.

Yukinoshita visibly stiffened.

_As I expected, _I thought. Yukinoshita had never really gotten over her sister complex. That was because people didn't change their stripes after all.

"I-I… my sister is…" Yukinoshita closed her eyes. She breathed heavily through her nose, as if trying to calm herself.

I decided to change the subject.

"So now what?" I asked.

"Huh?" For the first time, Yukinoshita looked confused.

"What do you hope to gain from telling me about this?"

"I don't know."

She was frank. I peered at Yukinoshita, and although she was uncertain, her lips were pressed together and her eyes were grim, as if she had resigned herself.

Then she began to speak again.

"In all my adult years, Hikigaya-kun, I have never loved anyone. I have only ever used others as they have used me. There was only one time in my life when I forgot all about that. You may say otherwise, but that brief time in my youth was precious to me."

She swallowed.

"Even if I didn't think about you, I never forgot you or Yuigahama-san. And so…"

I waited, but Yukinoshita's words had fully trailed off into silence. She picked up her teacup and sipped on it meditatively. Finally, she looked back at me.

"And what about you?" she asked me.

"What about me?"

"You never truly changed yourself. That's what you've been telling me and I believe you."

"Well, yeah." I didn't see where she was going with this, or maybe I did, but I refused to think very hard about it.

Yukinoshita closed her eyes, paused and then opened them again.

"I realised we could only be on the same wavelength if we were like this."

Silence.

Finally, I spoke up and asked, "…what do you mean?"

I didn't want her to say it, but the question came out of my mouth unbidden. Perhaps I actually did want it to come out into the open: my hidden, guilty thoughts.

But Yukinoshita did not say it. She merely tilted her head back and parted her lips slightly, hesitating.

She was laying her soul bare before me.

And in that moment, we both knew that it was enough. We'd come too far; we couldn't make things right. It had never been right to begin with. If Yuigahama had been with us, things would have been right, but we chose not to have her. So Yukinoshita said nothing and looked out the window. I did too, but the world outside was dark and there was nothing to see out there.

We had spent a whole day together again, and now it was night and we were lonely in each other's company.

Finally, I said, "Let's go."

"Together?"

My mouth was dry, but I nodded.

Something I've always prided myself on: I've never made excuses for myself. And to my credit, I didn't start then. My heart throbbed with painful joy and Yukinoshita smiled pointedly at nothing, all the sadness and bitter longing twisting her thin, once haughty lips. She never looked more like a woman than she did then. And neither of us made excuses because the real betrayal had already happened years ago, you see.

Everything that came next was just as expected.


	4. Chapter 4

**Four: The Morning After Was Wrong As Expected**

When I was in high school, I'd had this secret fascination with Yukinoshita's legs. Come to think of it, Yukinoshita's body was as developed then as it would ever be, and her legs, long and slender as they were, were a form of art like the literature she so admired. She was the stuff of French oil paintings and Greek tragedies. There had been a time when I had looked up to Yukinoshita Yukino, and even after everything that happened in high school, her legs were still beautiful to me. They propped her up like royalty.

The other thing I liked about Yukinoshita was her scent. Whatever shampoo she was using, it had to be an expensive brand, because the subtle aroma around her seemed to linger in the air even when she was long gone. I resisted her, but the scent itself was intoxicating. It had taken me a long time to remember, but I never forgot.

Back in high school, I checked Yukinoshita out even when I was unaware of it, and she had scorned and snubbed me for it. She was forever beyond my reach, and no one was more aware of it than she was. She had never let me forget who she was, not for a single moment.

And now… now Yukinoshita was on my level. When she touched my hand, her fingers were cold and wintery, like the snow beneath the snow. How very much like her. Or perhaps not. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet, and all that.

I would describe my whole thought process poetically if I could, except that would be nothing but pretty-sounding lies. The truth was that she made me hard, and that I got even harder whenever I remembered that Yukinoshita was a kept woman. I wanted to fuck her at least once in my miserable life. God knows if I would ever have an opportunity like that ever again.

* * *

><p>I left to go to work early the next morning. It took a bit longer to get there than usual, since I wasn't used to the route.<p>

What a slave I was to habit, I realised. I couldn't shake all the uncomfortable prickliness off my skin, no matter how much I showered myself. I was used to doing it at home, but even then, the water temperature had to be just right or else my thoughts would begin to wander. It took a lot of fiddling with the shower knobs and in the end it just wasn't worth it. I left the hotel room without saying anything, especially not to myself.

Up until that morning, I had lived a quiet middle-class existence, complete with the dissatisfaction that entailed. Now my heart leaped in my chest; the throbbing rang incessantly in my ears.

Yukinoshita was too sensible to ring me while I was at work, or even hours later. As expected, I did not hear from her - not that day, nor the day after. It was as if that night was frozen in time, disconnected from every reality except for our own. Sometimes, I wondered if it even happened at all.

Whenever the phone rang, I rushed to pick it up, but the first time it was a telemarketer who couldn't even speak Japanese properly and the second time it was my sister. I hung up immediately both times.

My sister rang again soon enough. This time she left a message on the answering machine.

"Bro, you've been more shut up than usual lately! I thought you were supposed to be going out with Yui-san. By the way, I'm pregnant. Talk to you later, bro!"

I dialed her number without any delay.

"What do you mean you're pregnant?"

Komachi giggled. "I'm going to have a baby, silly."

"But who got you pregnant?"

"Um, my husband?" Komachi answered, nonplussed. "Who else? We've been talking about starting a family for a while."

I'd forgotten about that. Somehow, I'd forgotten something so obvious, that people made love to their spouses. My mouth went dry. "Er…"

"I'd love to give you all the details, but I have a doctor's appointment now," Komachi went on. "I'll talk to you later, bro!"

And then I was left alone with a beeping receiver in my hand.

With Komachi pregnant, that undoubtedly meant she would be bothering me even more than usual, this time to yabber on about her precious kid and not just about her precious husband. I would become an uncle. I'd have to buy the kid a gimmicky present every year. I might be thinking too far ahead into the distant future, but it's important to put this whole thing into perspective.

But for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to feel irritated. I couldn't even bring myself to care at all, really. It was just something to keep me occupied. And it was good for Komachi, anyway, until she inevitably got jaded. It was her world, not mine.

A week had passed since that night with Yukinoshita. I thought there was nothing more painful or agonising than watching the ticking hands of a clock and not quite knowing what you were waiting for.

And then another week passed.

I could barely muster the energy to drag myself out of bed these days. Not that the story of my life had ever been particularly riveting to begin with. I took extra shifts at work for a couple of nights until I could no longer stand it. I did it so that the days would blend into each other, because thinking about Yukinoshita reminded me of the heavy, humid May rain. I could never stand the heat.

Then one day, Yuigahama Yui turned up at my house.

It was late October and the days were starting to get chillier and the nights longer. Yuigahama was dressed in a brown coat that fell to her ankles and her face was drawn and muted. It was quite an abrupt visit and for a moment I couldn't even muster a greeting for her. She had come all the way from Osaka just to see me. Probably had to take unpaid leave from work while she was at it.

"What's going on?" I asked. My heart beat painfully in my chest. _She knows what happened_. Nothing seemed more definite or certain.

But Yuigahama shook her head slowly and in pained confusion. "Do you know what happened to Yukinon?" she asked suddenly.

"Huh?"

"She hasn't been answering the phone. She's left, I think."

"Just as I expected," I answered grimly, before I could stop myself.

Yuigahama suddenly gripped my shoulders. "Why?! Do you know what's happened?" We were still standing at the doorway. If someone passing by observed us now, it would have made for an odd scene.

I shrugged myself away. "I don't know," I said irritably. "That's just the kind of person she is."

"I don't believe it…" Yuigahama muttered. She let go of me. "I just wonder… what's been with you two? Why have you been so cold? But I guess that's life… isn't it?"

So cold… huh?

Yuigahama turned away. "I guess I shouldn't have kept bothering you."

"Yuigahama…" I swallowed. I hoped there wouldn't be a scene.

"If you ever find out what's been going on with Yukinon, tell me, okay?" she said, a little tiredly. "For the sake of our old friendship."

She still cared more deeply about the two of us than she ever did about herself. I almost opened up to her then. I almost told her everything.

The problem was that I had no idea how to put it into words.

So instead, I said, "Did you know Komachi's having a baby?"

That made Yuigahama smile somewhat. "Really? That's great. I'll give her a call and congratulate her."

"Do what you want," I said.

Yuigahama sighed.

By then, it was clear to me that Yuigahama had no real clue what was going on, and frankly, neither did I. It was the kind of awkward silence that happens when two people who thought they knew each other realise at long last that they knew nothing all along. But for me, it was just as expected.

Then Yuigahama looked past my body and into my house and broke out into a soft, melancholy giggle.

"So you live alone, Hikki? I remember you saying you wanted to become a house husband back in high school."

"I am, except without the 'husband' part. And I work."

"Then you're not a house husband at all!"

Yuigahama laughed, this time more loudly. She continued to chat with me for a while, all the while completely avoiding any serious discussion. How very like her to find something to salvage out of a miserable conversation. One might call it "being diplomatic" but on the other hand, you might call it "satisfaction with mediocrity".

And on that happy note, Yuigahama left me, though not before telling me to extend her well wishes to Komachi and her unborn child. I was alone again with only my thoughts for company.

With Yukinoshita out of the picture, now what? It wasn't exactly a surprise that she would treat the whole thing like a one night stand and distance herself from it. No matter how you looked at it, it was the wrong thing to do - for both of us. Even Yukinoshita erred sometimes. But you'd think with her high morals that she would address the mistakes she had made. Personally, I didn't really give a damn. I'd spent the night with her, so what? Maybe it all came back to Yukinoshita's issues and her inflated sense of pride.

Still, the whole thing felt very wrong, I admit. Somehow, I knew that this would not be the end of the affair. Not by a longshot.

* * *

><p>The detective came to my house three days later. He was a thin, lanky man who could have been anywhere from his mid-thirties to his early fifties. There was nothing particularly "detective-like" about him. For example, he didn't have a moustache and he didn't smoke from what I could see, and he wasn't shabbily dressed either. In fact, he wore a suit and combed his hair, just like a regular salaryman, and he was polite enough to ask me how my day was before he showed me his business card.<p>

"Look," I said at first, "if you're trying to sell me something, I-"

"Nothing like that at all," he said with a smile. "My name's Satou Satoshi." Then he told me he was a family friend of Yukinoshita's.

I didn't believe him. After all, Yukinoshita didn't have any friends. I knew that much for certain.

"You're a detective," I said bluntly, because that was the first thing that came to mind.

The man's eyebrows raised in surprise, though his expression was soon replaced by a look of wry amusement. "They say some people suffer from persecution complexes, seeing conspiracies everywhere where they don't exist," he said cryptically. I had no idea what he was getting at.

Then he showed me his business card.

I almost jumped out of my skin. I mean, what the hell are you supposed to do when a private detective shows up at your door? I hadn't _really _expected that. "But I didn't kill anyone."

"You're off the hook - I don't investigate murders," said Satou Satoshi, who seemed to have a brisk, easy energy about him. "I usually get hired to investigate ancestry - not that it really matters to me one way or another who your parents are. I also get paid to investigate extramarital affairs."

Oh, so that was what it was about. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if I should just play innocent, but if the detective knew my name and address, the situation was already hopeless. The only thing he could possibly be mistaken about was what Yukinoshita and I did in the bedroom - the particulars, I mean - but in the eyes of the public, those things are irrelevant.

The fact is: we were together.

"I take it the husband sent you?"

"You're quick to cooperate," Satou Satoshi said approvingly. "May I come inside and discuss this with you?"

"_May I?" _my arse. You'd do it if I liked it or not, you bastard.

Some of my thoughts must have translated to my face, because Satou Satoshi said, "I promise this'll be nice and easy. I'll be sugary sweet, just like my name suggests."

Something about this guy made me want to punch his face in. Not that I've ever punched a guy in the face. That's yet another thing I missed out on doing in my so-called "high school romantic comedy youth". I've never punched a woman in the face either, for that matter. I'm not a certain light novel protagonist.

I let Satou Satoshi inside but didn't make him a cup of tea or anything. I might be a house husband (not in a relationship) but I draw the line at serving others when they come into my house. Make your own cup of tea, damn it.

"You look like a disgruntled teenager whose porn stash was just discovered by his mother," Satou Satoshi remarked. "Lighten up, Hikigaya-san."

"Make it quick," I grumbled.

Satou Satoshi's face turned pensive suddenly. "I can't do that," he said seriously. "You and I know this is a very delicate matter."

As he said that, my brain was ticking rapidly.

So there was domestic trouble on Yukinoshita's end, judging from the fact a private detective was involved. And from the nature of this particular visit, it was clear to me that Yukinoshita's husband either didn't know everything or that he wanted to keep this whole matter under wraps.

Or there was a third possibility: they wanted information from me. _Nobody knew where Yukinoshita Yukino was. _Why else would they approach me directly?

I've always been rotten, but real crimes and conspiracies are beyond me. Keep me out of it.

…or so I would have liked to say. In truth, I knew I was squarely in the middle of it. Damn that Yukinoshita. Something in my chest tightened - more out of fear for her than me, I realised. If it was just me at fault, I could take that. I've always been wrong in the eyes of society.

_But Yukinoshita…_

I began to speak flatly.

"I haven't seen her for weeks. I don't know where she is, any more than you do. We're not having an affair. I just… Yukino and I…"

I stopped. I realised abruptly that I had referred to Yukinoshita by her first name.

And so what? The defiant thought came to me, equally as suddenly. 'Yukino' was the same as 'Yukinoshita', only a couple less syllables long. I was just shortening her name. Yukinoshita's surname wasn't Yukinoshita anymore, that's why. No one would understand the importance I attached to her maiden name.

As I stopped speaking, Satou Satoshi's hand froze over his notebook. He looked up at me, lifting an eyebrow with mild curiosity.

_Go on, _he seemed to be saying.

But I was already sick of talking. I just looked down - sullenly - at my knees. I didn't know how to handle ordinary people, let alone detectives, and this smiling man had backed me into a corner and I hated it. I hated him. I hated people.

Finally, Satou Satoshi spoke up, after coming to the conclusion that I was not going to continue.

"Hikigaya-san, you're not being charged for anything. No one knows about your activities. My client has asked me to keep this as confidential as possible. I want you to tell me about the relationship between you and _Yukino-san_." He uttered Yukinoshita's first name ironically, as if telling me that there was no use hiding anything. "In particular, I want you to tell me about the night of the 19th of September. I want you to tell us exactly what she did with you that night."

"What do you fucking think?"

"Look, I have more than enough evidence about your liaisons. I've been following you since early September. I just want to know what she did _that night_."

I imagined this man listening to all the conversations between Yukinoshita and I, and a surge of anger went through me. I felt sick and violated.

"Well, then, you should already know about the two about us," I said, scowling. "I'm sick. I'm wrong. I don't deny it."

I wondered if this detective was used to dealing with asshole men like me, because his expression did not even flicker once as he listened to what I said.

What was I thinking? Of course this guy knew everything there was to know about this sort of relationship. He'd seen enough adulterous affairs presented to him as tragic tales of forbidden love to know that it was all just phony and indulgence. No different from the ordinary at all.

"So what did you do with her on the night of the 19th?" he asked again.

"We went to a hotel."

"You spent the night. Then what?"

"I went to work."

"What about her?"

"I don't know."

"You made no plans to see her again? Did you have a fight?"

"No."

"She left no message to you? She didn't act strange?"

"I don't know."

The look in Satou Satoshi's eyes hardened. Sugar? This guy was more like vinegar.

"You were having an affair. You were meeting for a whole month. And now she's missing. There's something funny going on here and I swear I'll get to the bottom of it."

"You're not the police," I said. I didn't know why I was getting so defensive. It was like admiring a picture of Mount Fuji and then being forced to see the mounds of trash at the bottom that the tourist pamphlets never wanted you to know about. "I haven't kidnapped her. I want to know where she is too."

I looked away.

And in that moment, all I could think of was Yukinoshita and her pride. I thought of how she had looked, sleeping beside me in that hotel bed. I remembered our last cryptic conversation together. And I peered sideways at the detective and thought to myself, _"How very wrong you are_."

* * *

><p>While we're on the subject of truths and confessions here, I'll write this down here:<p>

Yukinoshita did not embrace me. She did not touch my face, nor did she kiss me. We lay on our backs next to each other, the bare skin on our arms touching. Our touches were clinical and perfunctory, as if we were merely acting out a farce in front of each other.

And yet we did touch, unambiguously enough. We had played our parts and it was enough.

But I did not have sex with her. Not then, no matter how much my body longed for it. Was it morals that held me back or something else, I wonder? We did nothing but hold hands in that hotel room, as if in doing so, we thought we could grasp at something resembling lost innocence.


	5. Chapter 5

**Five: Hikigaya Hachiman's Sense Of Justice Was Wrong As Expected**

"Do you know the story of Tsubaki-hime?" Yukinoshita had asked me in a whisper.

I said no, I didn't.

"Tsubaki-hime was a courtesan," Yukinoshita explained. She did not look at me; her eyes were focused on the ceiling. "She made love to rich men for money and gifts. She was never loved. She lived the life of an aristocrat, but she was born a peasant. None of her wealth was her own. When she died, she was in massive debt. She was twenty-three."

I said nothing. Yukinoshita went on.

"But there was one young man who did know her, who mourned for her when nobody else did. She loved him enough to remain faithful to him, even though she was a kept woman."

"Why are you telling me this story?" I asked, somewhat irritated.

"I've been reading it lately."

_Oh._

The two of us remained silent for a moment.

Then I said, "So what happened?"

"Hm? What happened when?"

"At the end of the affair."

"Ah." Yukinoshita chuckled dryly. "The young man poured his feelings into a soppy, sentimental novel that became a great success. He never looked back after that. I'm sure the tale of Tsubaki-hime brought him much pleasure and shame. In the end, he was the one who exploited her the most."

And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen. That's how the story went.

* * *

><p>Eventually, the detective left my house when he realised that his search for the truth was going nowhere.<p>

As for me, I stayed at home, reveling in my newfound solitude. Or wallowing, whichever you prefer.

Somehow, I knew that Yukinoshita would return - I just did not think she would return to _me. _But that would be expected.

I don't think I've impressed on you how utterly _self-righteous _Yukinoshita is - or, at least, how she used to be. But I think she was still like that. Otherwise, she would never have disappeared in the first place. If you were never afraid of the sting of defeat, then you have already lost. That was how she thought about things.

Before he left, Satou Satoshi asked me, "Where do you think she went?"

And I said, "Somewhere to think."

Really, Yukinoshita, could you get any more predictable? You almost broke your marriage vows by sleeping with me. Of course you'd be scared. Of course you'd despise yourself. And you, more than anyone else, would have the self-discipline to take yourself far away before you could sink any further. You knew that I was dragging you down, so you did not look back at me.

I didn't resent her disappearance so much as I was weighed down by a weary sense of disappointment. It was not the first time I'd been betrayed by her ideals. It was very much like that time I found out she was in the car that hit me on my first day of high school. (How long ago that was.) But this was more than a case of withholding the absolute truth, and we both knew it. This was probably the first time in her life she had ever done anything so diametrically opposed to the ideals she had always lived for.

And now, ten years after the fact, I still remembered our first conversation. Perhaps it was _because _so much time had passed that it had carved itself into my memory, unwilling to let go.

"_It's cowardice not to accept who you are," _I had said.

And she had said, _"Then you will never move forward."_

Because of that, I knew Yukinoshita would be back.

When I said so to Satou Satoshi, he smiled tiredly, no doubt because he had heard it all before.

"It would have been more sensible of her to take marriage counselling sessions," he muttered.

I agreed. But Yukinoshita wasn't like that. She had lived for years on her own before she met me, and I never made much of a difference to her anyway. I had just pissed her off.

Then Satou Satoshi laughed, sweet as momma's apple pie now that he wasn't interrogating me, and he said, "Well, whatever," as if none of this really had anything to do with him at all.

* * *

><p>One of the downsides of being a loner: nobody ever tells you anything. You're always out of the loop. I suspect I was the last one in the family to find out about Komachi's pregnancy, but I wouldn't know because I don't talk much to my own family. A loner must stay true to his cause.<p>

The result was that Yukinoshita could have been maimed, skewed or beheaded and I would never have known, except if I had turned on the evening news. But current affairs bore me, especially all of that idol celebrity nonsense. For the next couple of days, I stayed at home. This was all for the benefit of my audience of one, just so he could get an accurate picture of a loner's adulterous lifestyle. Come to think of it, I amaze myself. Just how did I find the energy to go out so many times during September? It certainly wasn't for the sake of breasts, for Yukinoshita never did grow any to speak of. In fact, when I look back on that short month, it was all a blur to me. I could hardly even remember what we had discussed, only that those idle discussions had absorbed so much of our unending every day.

In any case, I was in a complete communications blackout, except for when Komachi came over to complain about her morning sickness.

"You know how I feel, don't you?" she cried, slamming her palms against the kitchen bench.

"I don't know what gives you the idea I have ever experienced pregnancy in the past," I replied irritably. A hormonal little sister is a pain in the neck. I don't know how her husband puts up with it. On the plus side, at least Komachi wasn't so sexually frustrated or so socially isolated that she would turn her lustful gaze outside her marriage.

Unlike some people I know.

"Anyway," I went on as I resumed washing the dishes, "you _are _going to help, aren't you?"

"You dare force a pregnant lady into menial labour?"

"You're, what, three weeks pregnant? Get over yourself."

"Waaaaah, Bro's being mean to me!" Komachi cried with her well-practiced crocodile tears. But after a few seconds, she stopped altogether. "I just realised. I'm going to get fat."

Now she really _was _upset. I rolled my eyes.

"Well, good news for you. Even a fat woman is useful in the kitchen."

"I get the feeling you got really close to saying something horribly politically incorrect just now." Grinning, Komachi stood up and helped me with the dishes, just as she had been planning to do all along.

We were silent for a minute or two. Having known each other for almost thirty years now, there was only so much small talk we could engage in without becoming mind-numbingly bored. Komachi was staring at my face the whole time.

"You seem different lately, Bro."

"How so?" I asked suspiciously.

"I dunno," Komachi giggled sheepishly. "You look gloomier than usual, I guess?"

"Hrm."

"I heard Yukino-san separated from her husband."

"Hrm."

I grunted, but my heart started pounding. How in the hell did Komachi know more about what was going on than I did? Oh, right. It wasn't too high a benchmark to achieve. I tried not to let my interest show.

"Yui-san told me what happened," Komachi went on. "Personally, I think it's marriage problems. Yukino-san got sick of her husband and cleared off."

"Hrm."

Komachi was still an incorrigible gossip. I suppose it gives married women a sense of superiority knowing that another woman is having a harder time with marriage than they are. "My car's less of a run-down piece of shit than yours!" kind of thing.

"Stop pretending not to care. Bro, I know you've been meeting up with her."

"H-huh?!" I spluttered. That actually took me off guard.

"You didn't answer the phone when you should've been home. I knew you must've been seeing _someone_, and if it wasn't Yui-san…"

Just what you'd expect from little sisters. Leave it to them to memorise your hikkikomori-like schedule.

"Was it really that obvious?" I grumbled. I couldn't bring myself to meet my little sister's eyes.

"Hmmm, a little. Actually, I was just bluffing! Tee hee!"

"Damn you…!"

Komachi stopped laughing. "But seriously, Bro, fess up. Tell me the juicy details."

"You keep your sticky nose out of it."

But those words had no effect over Komachi. In fact, I think I just egged her on. Somehow, she always ended up knowing everything about me. Actually, I was lucky the detective hadn't interrogated my little sister and convinced her that this was all some kind of conspiracy story.

Yukinoshita had gone missing. Of course she had separated from her husband. And the reason she had gone missing was because… well. No need to harp on about it. It wasn't like I put a gun to Yukinoshita's head and told her to leave. Explaining myself was just a pain.

Komachi finished wiping the last plate and set it down on the table. Then she put her hand on my arm. "Bro, you should just come out and admit it. You always liked Yukino-san, even back in high school."

"…is that so?"

"What? You didn't know it yourself? I thought it was pretty obvious."

Komachi was smiling at me, although not with the ringing endorsement she might have shown me a few months ago.

"How awful, Bro. The woman you love is the one woman you can't have! It's a modern tragedy!"

"I get the feeling you're writing your own story inside your head."

She tutted. "Seriously, you don't get it. It's better for you if you just come out and be open with your emotions. If you don't admit it, you'll never move forward!"

"_Then you will never move forward," _Yukinoshita had said.

"The same old story, huh," I said.

"What's with that bored look on your face?"

I shrugged, not bothering with a response.

* * *

><p>That night, I had a dream. It was snowing gently over a virgin white field. A wan moon shone overhead, partly obscured by clouds. It was a scene that could have happened anywhere.<p>

I dreamed of a courtesan dancing in that field, her long dress swaying in the wind. Although the snow fell gently, it kept sticking to her body, piling up more and more. She never struggled once; she just went on dancing, although movements became feebler and feebler as the snow coated her body. Then finally, I could see her no more. The shape of her womanly body was carved out against the snow, but eventually, even that too was obscured from sight. And still, the snow continued to fall gently in that white field. The courtesan had found her grave in the snow beneath the snow.

* * *

><p>I woke up, and there was a name on the tip of my tongue.<p>

Outside, it was snowing. It doesn't normally snow in Chiba, so whenever it happens, it's big news. But it's generally only a little amount if it does happen. If I stood outside, the snowflakes would break apart as soon as they hit me.

But I didn't really mind watching that sort of spectacle from afar.

I'd rather put up with extreme cold than extreme heat any day. I am the cool, hard-boiled type, after all. I just can't stand heat, especially the heat of other humans.

At the same time, I can't say I'm a big fan of snow. The novelty is fun for a while, but it wears off fast. And so does the snow itself. Even so, it was hard to take my eyes away from it as I gazed out the window. This was mostly because I was deep in thought, trying to remember something.

…well, whatever.

I was just about to give up entirely and make myself some breakfast when the snow abated and the clouds parted. The sun's rays shone through brightly, making the snow itself blinding to look at.

The sun, beaming benignly at the snow, caused it to melt and turn to mush. It didn't take long for it to sting my eyes.

_Yukinoshita Haruno._

That was the name.

I recalled the look of defeat in Yukinoshita Yukino's eyes as she sat across me at the café table.

If there was one person with an inkling about Yukinoshita's current whereabouts, I was certain it would be Haruno.

I stood up from my chair and picked up my wallet from the table, flicking through the cards I had inside.

It had been too many years. I no longer had any way of contacting Haruno directly. Besides my credit card, driver's license and some cash, the contents of my wallet consisted mostly of scrunched-up ramen coupons. But eventually I found what I was looking for.

Satou Satoshi's business card.

It was quite an amateur-ish looking card, if I was being nice about it. The design looked like something someone whipped together in two minutes on Microsoft Publisher. The background was plain white and you needed a magnifying glass to read the tiny font. His name, spelled in English, was written in Comic Sans. Most of the space was taken up with a picture of Luffy from _One Piece. _At least use _Detective Conan _or something if you're a private detective, damn it.

I tried to spend no more time than necessary perusing his pathetic excuse of a business card. His phone number was written in fine print, and that was all I needed. I wasted no time dialling the number.

It took about five rings before the detective finally answered.

"Oh hello, Hikigaya-san," he said before I could even introduce myself.

"Bastard, you already knew my phone number?"

As soon as I said that, I realised: _but of course. _Now I felt stupid.

I hurried to say my piece and get the whole ordeal over with. "You know about Yukinoshita Haruno, don't you?"

"Hm? Why do you ask?"

I was suddenly tongue-tied. All desire to talk further about Haruno fizzled out of me.

Who was I kidding?

"No reason," I mumbled.

There was silence on the other end of the phone for some reason. I wondered if he had even heard what I said. I was just about to press the button to hang up when he responded.

"You'd best hear about her from someone closer than me."

"Well, the younger sister is not exactly around for me to ask," I pointed out.

"That's true. So Yukino-san didn't tell you."

"She didn't tell me what?" I was starting to feel suspicious now.

He did not respond to the question directly. "Hayama Hayato-san will tell you," he said.

_Hayama, huh…_

"So you want to play detective yourself," Satou Satoshi said. "You want to know where Yukino-san is. Well, that much is natural," he added after some thought.

"If you don't know where she is, I wouldn't know either."

I was pacing around the room restlessly, constantly glancing out the window. The snow had definitely stopped for now, though the sky was still covered with light grey clouds. I sighed and stopped moving, standing stock still in the middle of the room.

Then I slid down to the floor and stared weakly up at the ceiling.

"There's really no point in someone like me looking for her," I said.

"That's true," said Satou Satoshi. "So why the sudden interest in Yukinoshita Haruno-san?"

I didn't really want to talk about it.

"I just felt like it," I said. Then I hung up.

I could see Yukinoshita Haruno's face in my mind's eye, smiling cheekily at me, the shrewdness ever present in her eyes. And I could see Yukinoshita Yukino too, gazing sternly down upon me, even as she faded into the background - into the snow.

The phone was still in my hand. I wrinkled my nose. I considered putting the phone back on the hook, but it was hard to move from where I was slouching on the floor.

There was really nothing holding me back. I wondered why, then, I found it so hard to move.

_Damn it, Yukinoshita._

This was entirely her fault. If she hadn't been so goddamn hypocritical…

An image of her flashed through my mind suddenly. I could see her wrapped up in the snow, pure white like an angel, only she wasn't moving… she would never move again.

I could hardly breathe.

Haruno. I needed to talk to Haruno.

I lifted the phone in my hand and then stopped. There was something in my mouth, I thought. I was convinced I was about to throw up. My hand was shaking violently.

What had come over me…?

Perhaps I already knew the answer to that.

My hand still shaking, I dialed Hayama Hayato's number. Although I never rang him back after that time he left a message on my phone, I had still saved his number. Please don't read too deeply into that.

Unlike Satou Satoshi, Hayama Hayato answered his phone immediately.

"Hello, this is Hayama speaking."

Something about his brisk, cheerful energy threw me off, although I can't say I really hated that.

In fact, as soon as I heard Hayama's voice, I felt more in control of myself. My voice came out firmer.

"This is Hikigaya."

"Oh, Hikigaya! How have you been? I didn't expect to hear from you! Sorry, you caught me at a busy time, so I can only talk for about fifteen minutes at most, but I can always ring you back later. Anyway, how are you doing?"

Hayama seemed very committed to wasting his sparse amount of time, but I was having none of it.

"Listen, Hayama. There's something I want to ask you."

"Yes?" Hayama sounded a bit uncertain.

I took a deep breath to steady myself. The image of Yukinoshita Yukino buried in the snow remained vivid in my mind.

"It's about Yukinoshita…"

"Ah," Hayama said. He cleared his throat. "There's really not a lot that I can say about Yukino."

"Why not? You're a family acquaintance, aren't you?"

"Well, yes, but…" Hayama sighed deeply. "You know how she is. She keeps to herself."

"But you know she's gone missing, don't you? That she's separated from her husband."

"That…" For a moment, Hayama's voice trembled. It was painfully obvious to me that he was sick with worry. "I can't say I understand what she's been doing. I'm not close to her."

Indeed. It seemed as if I was in a better position to understand Yukinoshita than Hayama was. Yukinoshita did not leave many gaps in her armour.

"What about Haruno-san?" I asked.

"H-huh?" Hayama sounded stunned.

"I'm talking about her sister."

"Well, yes, but…"

"Yukinoshita's been seeking to imitate her sister this whole time, hasn't she? That's what her ideal is."

"I don't think I can deny that, but…"

"So more than anyone, Haruno-san would know the current Yukinoshita best."

"…perhaps that's true," Hayama said.

There was something odd about Hayama's stilted response. "Do you know where she is?" I asked.

"Listen, Hikigaya, this is hard to say."

Hayama really did sound like he was in genuine pain.

The image of Yukinoshita Yukino in the snow flashed through my mind again. I gripped the phone harder. "Just say it anyway."

I could take it. I told myself not to have any expectations.

Yukinoshita wasn't really missing. The truth was that she-

"Haruno-san is dead," Hayama said, his voice eerily calm.

"…huh?"

My mind was blank.

Hayama went on. "She died a couple of years ago… in a skiing accident…"

My mouth moved on autopilot to form a response. "I-I see…"

That… explained everything.

And Yukinoshita hadn't told me. I thought I knew what she would do, but now I didn't.

"I'm sorry I had to tell you that." Hayama sounded sincerely apologetic.

"Idiot. Why are _you_ apologising? You're just as bad as Yuigahama."

There was a short silence. I could tell Hayama was smiling sheepishly.

"Listen," he said. "I… have to go right now. I'll ring you back later, but before I leave, there's something I want to say."

I heard him take a deep breath.

"I don't think Yukino is the kind of person who would run away from her issues. Don't you agree?"

"What are you talking about? She's been doing that her whole life."

"No," Hayama said doggedly. "She shouldered all of her sister's responsibilities. She had no choice but to fill her sister's shoes. She even married Haruno-san's fiancé."

"Sounds like running away to me."

"Why must you insist on seeing the worst in people? Why can't you have faith? I, for one, believe Yukino will return. Isn't that what you believe too?"

"You said yourself you weren't close to her. So what do you know about her?"

"That's not what this is about!"

I know, Hayama. I know.

I wanted to say something, but in the end, I never really managed to come up with something. Hayama sighed and said, in a voice thick with regret, "I really do have to go now. I'm sorry, Hikigaya."

After that, there was a beep - then silence.


	6. Chapter 6

**Six: Yukinoshita Yukino Was Right As Expected**

That was not the end of the affair.

You know, Hayama was as good as his word. He did try to call me back later, but I never answered him.

You see, I went for a walk.

It's something people do when it's stopped snowing but the snow remains glistening on the roadside. I imagine it's very pretty to look at. There were children outside attempting to make snowmen out of what was left of the snow. Their exuberant high-pitched shouts filled the air, but they never quite reached my ears. Or at least, it was as if that noise came from a far, distant place.

I was supposed to be going to work now. It was that time of the day. I supposed I could still make it now if I hurried. It seemed like a good idea in an abstract sort of way.

I stopped at a nearby park. Good to take a detour. There was a swing there. I walked over to it and sat down on the seat.

Out of all the playground equipment out there, the swing must surely be the best. But this is only if you can push yourself. If someone else needs to push you, it defeats the purpose. Take this from the master of the "push yourself on the swing" school. You don't have to talk to anyone and no adult can accuse you of not playing. You're essentially killing two birds with one stone. Whoever invented the swing, I give you a medal.

I began to swing myself at a leisurely pace. To and fro. To and fro. There were children tumbling around in the snow and getting their socks and shoes wet. I pitied them.

When I was a child, I never bothered with any of that sort of stuff, as you can imagine. After a day at the park, my clothes were always in impeccable shape. Despite being a poor runner, I was always the best at playing tag. Nobody ever managed to get me it. That was because nobody ever realised I was in the game to begin with. Truly, my ninja skills were mature even as a child.

Those certainly were the days.

As I swung myself, the swing made a hesitant-sounding squeak, perhaps because I was too heavy for it now.

I looked at those children and I thought: I wonder when they will realise that growing older is nothing but a pain.

Kids, your lives will turn to shit. You won't end up with the job you want, not in this economy. There's no such thing as a hero of justice in this world. No, the hero of justice is more likely to betray you than anything and you'll do fuck all to help her. Why? Because you're just a cog in the system. People don't really understand each other. They're just precious little snowflakes that melt away as soon as you touch them. Kids, you'll never find happiness in this world, not as long as everyone else is still breathing.

It's not even that everyone in this world is a complete asshole (although there are many assholes in this world). Oh no, it's not even that. It's because people are kind - and then you end up caring and you can't do anything for them because you're just a stupid piece of shit. That's right, a stupid piece of shit. I wonder if you kids will realise that's all you'll ever amount to.

Oh yes, keep laughing and playing in the snow without a care in the world. But that snow's going to melt soon and you'll be left with nothing but cold wetness on your hands. Nothing in this world is fair, kids. You'll never understand the suffering of others even when you suffer yourself. You'll never realise what she went through. You're just going to sit there on your arse on a swing. She's probably lying dead in a ditch right now and you didn't do a goddamn thing to help her. Kids, you're all just so full of shit. When will you ever grow the fuck up? So what if you can write deep-sounding words on a paper? What the fuck does that do for society - for anyone?

You know, kids, even I wanted to fall in love with somebody too. But here I am, cold and shivering on this seat and I don't think anyone gives a shit. I pretty much commit fucking adultery. That's me. My god, if you knew what a pathetic life I lead, you'd throw stones at me. But I know you kids wouldn't do that. I bet your parents brought you up well.

I just wanted to talk to her, don't you see…? It didn't matter what we did together. Shit, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. This is what happens when a loner starts interacting with people - that's why we're loners in the first place. You shouldn't be like me, kids. Do what I say, not what I do.

You know, you should try to be like Hayama or Yuigahama or something. Or maybe like my little sister. I bet you could play with her kid when it's born. But please don't leave that kid out of your games. I mean, shit, I wouldn't wish that fate on anybody.

I wish people never had to be alone.

I bet you kids just don't understand. I bet you think I'm some creepy old guy, even though I'm not even thirty yet. Yeah, just keep playing on the road like that. Don't look at me. Forget about me. No wait, don't play on the road. You're going to slip and fall. Look, you just did. I can't swing in peace anymore because of you kids getting on my nerves. And oh jesus fucking christ theres a car coming and oh my god i have to do something i

no

i have to

* * *

><p>What followed was a blur. I only came to my senses hours later to the smell of disinfectant.<p>

I knew at once I was in a hospital room. The last time I'd been in a hospital was when my father had his stroke, but I hadn't slept in a hospital bed myself for over ten years - not since my first day of high school.

My right leg as strung up in a cast. I'd been anaesthetised, but I knew right away that my limb was broken.

There was a TV hanging over my bed, but I could not be bothered reaching for the remote on the bedside table to turn on the channels. I simply lay on my back, staring listlessly at the white ceiling and wondering what the hell had just happened.

I did have a vivid memory of pushing a young girl out of the way and losing my footing on the wet, slippery road as a car came hurtling towards us. Good thing the driver had been taking it slowly because of the weather conditions or I might have died.

The thought left me feeling ridiculously light-headed.

I was already itching to get off my backside and go home already, but I decided to stay put. Not that I had a choice either way. Presently, a nurse walked into the room and asked me how I was doing. I said, "Fine." Then she left, probably to do other things.

I wondered if that little girl was doing all right.

As soon as that thought ran through my head, the door opened and the nurse was back, accompanied by the little girl in question. She was with her mother.

I stared. There was something strangely familiar about the mother, although I couldn't put my finger on it for the moment.

"Excuse me, Hikigaya-san," said the little girl, interrupting my train of thought. She wore her hair in pigtails and wore blue overalls, evidently quite the tomboy. "Th-thank you for saving my life."

She sounded like she was reciting words her mother had taught her. Blushing bright red, she brought out something from behind her back - a bouquet of flowers.

What a sweet gesture. That was probably the mother's doing as well.

She was a stern-faced woman, though admittedly a beautiful one. She seemed about my age, although it's hard to tell with women. Her long, sleek hair had gone prematurely grey, though her face was still youthful. Something about her reminded me of dry ice.

Turning my attention back to the daughter, I accepted the flowers with a weak smile - I mean, what else are you supposed to do? It wasn't like I had a use for flowers or anything. She'd have been better off buying me something edible or at least a copy of Weekly Shonen Jump.

But still…

A lump formed in my throat.

"I didn't really do anything," I mumbled.

Anyone would have done what I did. So what I had achieved was no particular kindness, nor was it worthy of gratitude - unless, of course, you measured kindness by how much inconvenience it caused the person doing the deed. In that case, I was pretty much Mother Teresa. Or perhaps Nelson Mandela. They should make me the President of South Africa.

"You really haven't changed," said the mother as she looked at me.

"Huh?" I responded dumbly. Did this woman know me or something? Well, she did look familiar.

She definitely wasn't anyone I knew from work, though.

I found myself unable to meet her straight gaze. As my eyes slid to the side, I noticed the black lace on the window curtains. And then it clicked.

"You're the black lace girl."

"Oh my," said the nurse. The black lace girl - that is, the mother of the child I had just rescued - scowled at me with irritation.

Probably not the most appropriate thing to say in front of a kid, I realised.

"Er, sorry," I mumbled. I still wasn't good at looking people in the eyes as I spoke to them, especially after I had just embarrassed myself. "Kawasaki… was it?"

Kawasaki Saki. I'd forgotten about her. If I recalled correctly, she didn't come to the class reunion. She was a standoffish girl who generally kept to herself. But it didn't surprise me at all that she had started a family.

"That's right," said Kawasaki as she looked me down. Then she said curtly, "I'm glad you're not hurt too much."

"A broken limb here and there never stops anyone," I answered flippantly.

It was actually a little bit strange. I felt better now, after being hit by a car, then I did before the accident. It had cleared my head somehow. Maybe I'm secretly a masochist.

"I see," said Kawasaki. Curiously enough, I could see a small smile on her lips. "I owe you one." Then she corrected herself. "No, I owe you two."

"What are you talking about?" I gazed at her blankly.

"You helped me out in high school. I got a scholarship because of your suggestion. It was a small thing, but it improved my relationship with my brother. I'm grateful for that too."

"But that was all so long ago," I insisted. "Who really cares now?"

Kawasaki looked at me sternly, as if I were being a naughty child. Yeek, no wonder her daughter was so well-disciplined and not fidgeting.

"Perhaps you may think so," Kawasaki said coolly, "but I never forget favours."

There was something refreshing about Kawasaki's directness. That part of her hadn't changed after all these years either.

And I was glad for it.

"You don't have to do anything for me," I heard myself say. "What you've done just now was enough."

"What I did just now?" It was Kawasaki's turn to be puzzled.

"You acknowledged my existence."

"What a funny thing to be happy over." Kawasaki sighed. She was evidently still baffled.

Of course she would be. She'd been surrounded by loved ones her whole life. She'd never known anything different.

Speaking of loved ones…

The nurse cleared her throat. "Your sister's also here to see you," she informed me. "Shall I call her in?"

"Yeah," I said, finding the energy now to sit up properly in my bed. "Please do."

* * *

><p>Predictably, my sister was all over me and gushing with concern.<p>

The irony was not lost on her that this was not the first time I'd been hospitalised after getting hit by a car. First I'd been trying to save a dog and now someone's kid. What next?

Maybe I should become a superhero.

Kawasaki did stay for a while to chat with my sister, but it was clear that the two of them did not have much in common. At any rate, they stopped talking about me and my health very quickly in the piece. In fact, it ended up with Kawasaki lecturing Komachi on tips to handle pregnancy. It was like I wasn't even in the room.

So much for having my good deeds acknowledged, I suppose.

But when the time came for Kawasaki to leave, she faced me directly and came right up to my bed.

(Whoa, what was with these married women…?)

"If you ever need anything," she said solemnly, "just call."

And she slipped a piece of paper with her phone number scribbled on it in my hand.

I couldn't bring myself to speak, so I just nodded. Satisfied, Kawasaki nodded curtly and turned to leave, summoning her daughter at her heels.

"By the way," she said, her back turned to me, "have you heard from Yukinoshita?"

_Yukinoshita…_

All of a sudden, the good humour fizzled out of me, as if I had been hit with a sucker punch.

"No," I said with difficulty.

"I see," said Kawasaki shortly. "I would have liked to thank her. I was wrong about her."

"W-wrong about what?"

"About the Service Club. I thought it was Yukinoshita's way of condescending others. But it was a good thing in the end."

And with that, Kawasaki left, leaving me alone with my sister. The nurse had gone to check up on the other patients, so it was just Komachi and I.

For a moment, neither of us said anything.

"It's funny how you keep meeting up with all these old high school people, Bro," Komachi remarked.

"It's a small world, all right."

It was an accident like this that had tied me to Yuigahama and Yukinoshita in the first place.

I must have been frowning, because Komachi leaned towards me suddenly and flicked me lightly on the forehead.

"Bro, you're an idiot," she said with mild exasperation. "I don't know why you keep doubting if you're a good person."

"You'd be wrong there. I think I am an excellent person. Loners are truly exemplary citizens."

"Yes, yes, spare me your convoluted logic." Komachi sighed, before breaking out into a smile again. "But it looks like you're back to your ordinary self, at least."

I still couldn't tell her about Yukinoshita, but for now this was enough. Komachi sat by my bed and held my hand. When we were kids, I was the one taking care of Komachi when she was sick, but now it was the other way around.

Outside, evening was fast approaching. Eventually, I fell asleep and dreamed of my high school days.

The Service Club room. A soft breeze came in through the open window of the fourth floor of the special building. Yuigahama was busy playing with her phone, humming a cheesy pop tune to herself, while Yukinoshita sat by the window and read a paperback novel serenely. Her long black hair moved with the breeze, and as the sun set in the distance, an orange light bathed the room with a warm glow.

On most days, the Service Club didn't actually help people. We spent our times like this, keeping each other company during those long afternoons after school was over.

You'd forgive me if I thought that none of this was romantic in the slightest at the time. Of course it wasn't romantic. We talked a whole load of crap to each other. Yukinoshita would snap her book shut and insult me in her smug, self-satisfied way while I bitched right back at her. And Yuigahama would try to calm us both down, but it was obvious she always sided with Yukinoshita about everything.

And Zaimokuza would occasionally walk in and turn everyone off with his obnoxious chuuni behaviour. And Totsuka was cute.

And… and…

I woke up. It was dark now and the curtains were shut. Komachi was gone now.

This wasn't the Service Club room. It was just a hospital room somewhere in Chiba, far from home. Just like that, the illusion of a rose-coloured high school vanished in the face of reality.

But I wasn't alone in the room.

A familiar man dressed in a suit sat by my bed looking at me. This one wasn't an old high school acquaintance.

"You…!" I spluttered, half-angrily, half-wearily.

Satou Satoshi smiled at me.

"How are you doing, Hikigaya-san?" he asked.

I scowled.

"What do you think?" I asked back at him.

"You do seem to be in a miserable state," he remarked as his eyes lingered on my leg. "But isn't that because of your own doing?"

"Well, yeah," I admitted. Talking to this guy was exhausting. I had no idea what he was getting at.

"It seems like you're not such a bad guy," Satou Satoshi said.

Somehow, when he said it, it sounded like an insult. I grumbled. "So what are _you _doing here? Aren't visiting hours over?"

He glanced at the clock. "No, there's still ten minutes left. So I'll keep this quick."

He cleared his throat. I watched him, waiting for him to just get on with it already.

"Yukino-san has returned," he said.

My heard let out a single loud thump.

"Are you serious?" I whispered.

"Yes, it seems she had been taking a long trip incognito. She returned home a few hours ago, it seems. Would you like to meet her?"

I turned this all over in my mind. It took me a while before I could speak.

"No," I said finally. "I'd only… cause a burden to her."

It was my own selfishness that had caused her to disappear in the first place.

"They all say that," said Satou Satoshi, "but they all end up meeting with their lovers again anyway. Some people just can't keep their hands to themselves."

"You're trying very hard to make me hate you, aren't you?"

Something about the way he spoke reminded me of someone. Something about the way he did things…

But it was hard to think about that when all I could see in my mind's eye was Yukinoshita, safe and alive.

"Well, in any case," Satou Satoshi said, "you're not off the hook yet. I'm going to keep track of you a while longer, just in case you do try to pull some funny business."

"Do all detectives talk to their targets like this?" It was like he was trying to deter me from speaking to Yukinoshita - not that I planned to speak to her in the first place.

"No," Satou Satoshi responded cheerfully. "But this is what my client has asked for."

"I see." I lay back down on my bed. I didn't really care too much. I was just glad Yukinoshita was back home.

The detective watched me for a while, a wry smile on his lips.

"One more thing," he added. "Yukinoshita Haruno is buried at Yahashira Cemetery."

After that, the time was up. A nurse came into the room, asking for him to leave. He did so promptly, bowing as he left.

* * *

><p>I rested easy in the hospital and complied with whatever the nurses told me to do. The good thing about it was that I got off work for a couple of days. The bad thing was that there was nothing to do in the hospital whatsoever. I watched a bit of daytime television to pass the time, but it was mind-numbingly boring for the most part. The Tokusatsu reruns are great, but I could care less about the cooking shows.<p>

I might say all that, but it wasn't really _that _bad. I didn't have to share a room with anyone and the room itself was quiet save for the hum of the air conditioner. I was left alone to my thoughts and that suited me just fine.

They let me out a week later, although naturally I still had to wear crutches. Those things are an absolute pain the way they dig into you. You can never quite get comfortable with them no matter how much you readjust your position. It's absolutely exhausting to walk any distance in them. Good thing I'm an energy conserver and I never walk much distance even on the best of days.

Even so, after all those days in the hospital I felt kind of restless. I'd gotten a load off my mind with the whole Yukinoshita business, but something still left me unsatisfied. The world outside was cold and chilly and somewhere along the line, it had left me behind.

Well, it was getting onto Christmas, so perhaps that explained it. It was the season of love confessions and _doki doki _moments. Not really any of my business, of course. But it was one of those times you could really see the difference between loners and riajuu, and that definitely cast a weight in the air.

There's something remarkably stupid about Christmas in Japan. Isn't it supposed to be a religious holiday in other countries? What was it about, the birth of Santa Claus or something…? At any rate, it certainly wasn't about having kinky sex in sleazy love hotels.

While all of that nonsense was going on, my life had returned to normal. I was determined never to enter a love hotel again, which was an easy promise to keep. I could put the whole affair with Yukinoshita out of mind and I was happier that way. Women are far more trouble than they're worth.

There was only one thing left to do now.

I hobbled over to the station and got on the train to Shin-Yahashira station.

When you're on crutches, people are surprisingly nice to you. It was a packed train, but the people shuffled aside to make way for me and a high school girl offered me her seat.

That's the nicest a high school girl has ever been to me, by the way.

The train trip passed by all too quickly. Soon, I was at Shin-Yahashira Station, hobbling my way around confusedly. I wasn't used to this part of Chiba and the station's layout had changed a lot since the last time I had been here. Fortunately, a kindly high school boy told me where the exit was.

That's the nicest a high school boy has ever been to me, by the way.

Soon, I was out in the open air, hobbling over to the cemetery. It wasn't all that far to walk, but a kindly man offered me a lift in his car. I was starting to get tired and evening was fast approaching by now, so I accepted the offer, although ordinarily I would simply have stammered a refusal.

And so, through no effort of my own, I ended up at Yahashira Cemetery.

There were groups of people walking around (it was a big cemetery, after all) but overall, it was an empty, open space that was populated with more dead people than living ones. Most of the tombstones were wholly unremarkable to look at, but there were a few large ones that were decorated extravagantly. Probably belonged to all the rich bastards.

There was no doubt in my mind that Haruno's grave would be extravagant too, and sure enough it wasn't hard to find the graves belonging to the Yukinoshita family. They owned a whole subsection of the cemetery. In fact, I probably wouldn't be far off in saying they had important shares in the business.

Haruno's grave had evidently been visited recently, because when I found it, there were pale purple flowers still fresh in the little clay pot beside the tombstone. I don't know much about flowers, but somehow I knew they were camellias.

Not only were the flowers fresh, but there was also a visitor there right now. A woman was kneeling by the gravestone, her head bowed and her hands clapped together in prayer. The scene transfixed me like an illusion or a scene from a painting. It was if she would still be kneeling there even after the world ended. I recognised her at once.

I gulped. My intention, right then and there, was to walk away and leave her to it. I would never be able to understand this woman's grief. It would be presumptuous of me, as a loner, to sit beside another person in their intensely private moment.

And besides, this was the last person I wanted to involve myself with right now.

I tried to back away, but my crutches slipped, causing a slight scraping sound against the stone path. That was enough for the woman's attention to turn my way.

"Hikigaya-kun," she uttered in surprise, her eyes widening.

No escape now. "Y-yo," I stuttered, trying (and failing) to greet her casually.

The surprise was soon gone from her eyes, replaced by a knowing look of melancholy. "So you found out, I see…" Yukinoshita Yukino said softly.

I knew I could only offer half-baked sympathy, but that didn't stop me from mumbling, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Yukinoshita said. "I'm the one who should be sorry."

"Where did you go?" I couldn't stop myself from asking.

I think a part of me must have hoped to find Yukinoshita here, because now that I was talking to her and I could see for myself that she really was all right after all, a warm glow spread across my chest. I couldn't contain it, despite the chilliness in the air.

"I needed to think," Yukinoshita replied. She turned her gaze back to the grave, where there hung a photo of Haruno grinning from ear to ear. "I needed time alone to think about what I would do next."

"And you found your answer?"

"Yes," Yukinoshita said firmly.

There was resolve in her eyes, something I hadn't seen in ten years.

"I see," I said curtly, wrenching my gaze away. "I'm glad."

We were silent then, gazing at Haruno's image together. From the date written on her tombstone, she had died when she was twenty-three. Yukinoshita Yukino was currently older than her older sister.

"It must have been hard for you," I said, "living the lie your sister led."

"It was a lot of responsibility."

I wonder how Yukinoshita might have turned out if Haruno never died. A foolish question to consider, but, well, she _had _handled the school festival in a way Haruno never managed. But alone and suddenly faced with family pressure…

Well, even the great Yukinoshita Yukino would crack, I imagine.

There was no doubt, after all, that she had sincerely loved her sister.

Otherwise, none of her actions made sense.

"So in the end, you did outdo your sister." I laughed softly and bitterly.

Technically, Yukinoshita had never lied to me, it seemed.

Even so…

"I'm sorry," Yukinoshita said once again. "I should never have approached you from the beginning."

For the first time, she faced me squarely, the front of her body in full view. It had been months since I had last seen her and I hadn't noticed how much she had changed. Only now, for the first time, did I realise.

"Y-you…!" I gasped. Yukinoshita smiled sadly. "So you've been pigging out on a lot of snacks while you were alone," I went on.

It was the worst possible thing I could have said. Yukinoshita did not hit me, but her eyes blazed with cold fury. She completely crushed me.

"Er, sorry," I backpedalled. "That was a joke."

"And a poor one at that," Yukinoshita said scornfully.

At the same time, I couldn't take my eyes away from the bulge in Yukinoshita's stomach. It wasn't too large yet, but it was noticeable, especially given Yukinoshita's otherwise slender frame.

"Did you know you were pregnant when you were meeting up with me?" I asked, my voice trembling.

Yukinoshita nodded without hesitation.

"In fact, you could say it was that knowledge that led me to do something I would otherwise never have considered…"

Right. Ordinarily, Yukinoshita was no cheater. She played things fair and square by her own absolutist standards.

But her loyalty to her sister could only carry her so far. The life growing inside of her - was that, too, a burden she had willingly taken on for the sake of something greater?

In that case, it wasn't really _her child_, but Haruno's_._

So then the only time Yukinoshita had ever considered sleeping with me was when she was pregnant in a marriage she was determined not to leave.

There was something deeply fucked up about all of this.

"Anyone would have done the trick, you know," I said, because that was the only thing I _could _say.

"I wanted it to have meaning. I wanted…" Yukinoshita trailed off, frowning. A look of confused agony came over her face. "What did I want, I wonder…?"

And although she had said she had come to a decision, for that brief moment I could see her hesitation showing through.

In that moment, I think, I could have pulled her into my arms and she would not have resisted. And I could have taken her to a love hotel and taken off her clothes and plunged myself inside of her, and she would have wrapped her arms around my neck and moaned softly as our bodies pressed together.

For the briefest of moments, I entertained the thought of coming inside her while she was pregnant with another man's child.

I blinked and shook my head.

_No._

No, I couldn't do that to Yukinoshita or her marriage, even if… even if…

_("They all say that, but they all end up meeting with their lovers again anyway.")_

I swallowed. "Whatever," I said, a little roughly. "It's past now."

It wasn't like I could do anything with a broken leg, anyway. Right?

"Indeed," said Yukinoshita, and I knew the two of us would never come remotely close to sleeping with each other ever again.

After all, even back then, we were unable to go through with it.

"So now what are you going to do?" I asked her.

A small smile came upon Yukinoshita's lips. This time, her smile was not sad. "This time, I will make everything right."

She took a deep breath. The fire in her eyes grew.

"I will end everything with my own hands."

I could see she meant it too. This was more like the Yukinoshita I remembered.

And it was because Yukinoshita was like this that our high school love comedy had turned out wrong as expected.

I smiled.

Yukinoshita, I suppose you'll never know it, but that's what I've always loved about you.


	7. Chapter 7

**Seven: The End Of The Affair Was Right As Expected**

"Are you free now?" Yukinoshita inquired, looking down on me with her chin turned up. I doubted she would take no for an answer.

"Yeah," I mumbled. "Why?"

Yukinoshita walked up to me and took my arm. "I want you to meet my husband."

"I… what?!" I spluttered.

Out of all the things I expected Yukinoshita to do, this was not one of them. But then again…

"I'd rather come clean about everything," Yukinoshita said. "Besides, I don't suppose you have to do anything. Just sit still while I explain everything. I'm sure your appearance in itself would clarify why I never followed through with my intentions."

"Hey, what are you implying?!"

"Nothing, just that your rotten eyes make you look like a bumbling con artist." Yukinoshita's lips curled upwards with amusement, although a moment later, her smile dropped. "Not that any of it was really your fault, of course…"

She was quiet for a moment, her face downcast. I said, "Come on then. Let's go."

That seemed to restore Yukinoshita's momentum. She looked back at me and smirked.

"I hope you're ready," she declared.

Even though she said that, I knew that Yukinoshita stood to lose more through her honesty. She was the married one from a prestigious family - and not to mention she was the woman here.

I wondered if she had really thought it all through.

But no, she definitely had. She had spent months alone, considering all of her options.

"You won't get a divorce, then?" I asked, just to be sure.

"I considered that," said Yukinoshita. "But…" She looked down at her stomach.

"Ah," I said.

"I made a terrible mistake, so I must take responsibility for my actions."

A terrible mistake, she called it. I suppose it would look like that from her perspective. Still, I wondered what mistake she was referring to.

We were walking (or in my case hobbling) towards the carpark. Yukinoshita kept her head high, even as she was walking towards certain ruin. I imagined her as one of those well-bred chestnut horses made to run in steeplechase races, blinkers covering every inch of her face so that nothing could distract her from the finish line.

The car that awaited us in the car park was a black limousine. It looked uncannily like the car that had hit me all those years ago, though I was sure it was a different vehicle. It was simply the same model.

Even so, a chill went down my spine as I looked at it, and for a moment I hesitated. "Come," Yukinoshita said, tugging on my arm. She must have sensed my unease.

The driver, an elderly man with a white moustache, sat behind the wheel and nodded curtly as I crawled inside the car. He did not ask any questions, but I could see the sharp inquisitiveness in his eyes.

"Got to our house," Yukinoshita instructed the driver, not bothering to explain anything for now.

Although the air conditioning was relaxing, the silence within the car was strained. To alleviate the silence, the driver put on some unobtrusive jazz music. Although it was supposed to be soothing, somehow I felt even more jittery.

"Hikigaya-kun," Yukinoshita said suddenly. She was sitting in the passenger seat while I sat in the back seat, so I could not see her face. "Sit up straight. Don't make me disgusted to be associated with you."

"As if you're not already disgusted," I retorted. "And how do you know I'm not sitting up straight anyway? My posture is immaculate!"

"No, it isn't. You need plenty of work. And I know you're doing it wrong because I know you."

Somehow, I got the feeling this was Yukinoshita's roundabout way of telling me she knew how I was feeling right now. _I know you._

"Yes, yes," I said. And I did try to sit up straight after that.

At that moment, I noticed the driver duck his head and mutter something to Yukinoshita. She nodded in response.

I wondered what they were talking about.

The car trip seemed to take a long time. In fact, it _did _take a long time. The traffic was congested at this time of the evening, and the car passed through many unfamiliar roads. I knew our destination, but not how to get there. Despite how lengthy and uneventful the journey was, I did not feel like dozing off once. There was too much swirling in my mind.

I tried to recall what I did know about Yukinoshita's husband. _A scholarly sort_, she had described him. He was undoubtedly a rich man, too - but that was to be expected. From what I knew about Yukinoshita, I had my suspicions about how her married life would function.

I would find out how true they were when I met him.

It was dark by the time we reached Yukinoshita estate. I knew we had arrived because of how large, extravagant and bourgeois the mansion was. It gave off the solemn and stifling air of the Tower of London or some other foreign historical building. It might have doubled up as a prison. At any rate, it was not a Japanese-style house.

Yukinoshita got out of the car and opened the door for me. She also held her hand out for me to help me to my feet. I did not take her hand.

"Are you really sure this is what you want to do?" I asked her quietly.

"Yes," Yukinoshita said briskly. "Now stop asking."

Then she forcibly took my hand and pulled me to my feet. Her hand was soft, but her grip was firm.

"Okay," I said, reaching for my crutches. There was no turning back now.

Not that there had ever really been a way to escape from all of this.

To my surprise, Yukinoshita squeezed my hand once, and then she let go. She did not look me in the eyes. I only saw the side of her face, lit up by a combination of faint moonlight and the sickly glow of the street lamps beside the gate. She was looking up at the looming figure of her very own house, her lips pursed and her eyes calm.

I opened my mouth to say something - a word of thanks, perhaps - but nothing came to mind. Instead, I let my hand fall to my crutch and I joined her down the straight path towards the front door.

A butler opened the door. He was dressed in a trim black suit and tie, and his hair was slightly greying. Like the driver from earlier, he regarded me stoically but also measuredly before bowing courteously at me.

"Is James in?" Yukinoshita asked, skipping all preamble.

"Indeed, he is in currently in the study," said the butler with perfect formality.

"Good," said Yukinoshita as she took off her shoes and coat. "I'll see him now then."

"Sir, do you require help?" The butler turned to me. "If you wish, I can arrange for a wheelchair…"

"No, it's fine," I said stiffly. "I won't be here long anyway."

When I said that, Yukinoshita shot me a meaningful glance but said nothing.

The main entrance of Yukinoshita's house was just what you would expect. Thick, luxurious carpet covered every inch of the floor and the high ceiling was covered with twinkling chandeliers. On the wall there hung fancy oil paintings, the type you might find in the Louvre or the Vatican City. I didn't know enough about art to recognise any of the paintings, but they certainly looked like something a rich bastard would plaster all over his house.

The butler led through a number of hallways until eventually we stopped in front of an ornate wooden door. Yukinoshita nodded curtly and the butler took that as his cue to bow and leave.

Now that we were alone, Yukinoshita sighed. "Stay here," she instructed me. "I'll talk to him first."

Then she opened the door and walked inside without sparing a second glance behind her.

Perhaps she had not wanted to experience the silence between us.

_How did it come to this? _I wondered.

If I could speak to my teenage self, I wondered how he would react to this situation. He'd probably be speechless, I figured. But other than that, I drew a blank. At that moment, I couldn't even remember what my own high school looked like.

Perhaps my mind was merely numb.

I'm not sure how long I spent waiting. There was no clock in the hallway. But it certainly felt like a long time. Long enough that my arms grew tired of propping up my body on crutches. I wanted to curl down somewhere and sleep for a very long time.

Eventually, though, the door opened with a creak. "You may come in," Yukinoshita said to me coolly as if she were a receptionist talking to a stranger and not the married woman who had planned to have an affair with me.

Slowly, I hobbled my way into the study.

It was a relatively small room - no bigger than my bedroom, I imagine - but it was absolutely jam-packed with bookshelves, to the extent you could describe it as a mini library. And yet for all that, it did not feel suffocating. A small fire flickered in the fireplace in the corner, bathing the room with cozy warmth. It was the sort of place one might like to sleep in while curled up with a good book.

In the middle of the room, there was a small desk. Three armchairs were pushed up next to it, two on one side and one on the other. Yukinoshita was standing, so right now, only one of the seats was occupied - the lone chair on the other side of the desk.

"Take a seat, Hikigaya-san," said the man sitting on the chair.

So I did. I took up one of the seats opposite his desk.

It was obvious to me that the man was a foreigner, just from his accent. He spoke Japanese very well, though. It was clear he was fluent at reading it, too, judging from the heavy legal tome situated on his desk.

(Hang on… legal tome? _Business Law and Taxation_?)

The book was open, and there were plenty of hand-scribbled notes in the margins, like those of a precocious student.

Looking at Yukinoshita's husband, though, I was surprised. He did not have blonde hair and blue eyes. His hair was dark brown and he was short in stature for a foreigner. In fact, I'd say he was half-Japanese.

Even though he was at home, he was wearing a white business shirt and his hair was combed back. I have to admit he was a much better catch than I was, going just by looks alone. Add the smell of his aftershave (if money had a stench, it would be that) and the two of us were entire galaxies apart in terms of attractiveness. I could see his eyes surveying me coolly as he no doubt came to the same conclusion.

Then he smiled, a little hesitantly.

"Hello there, Hikigaya-san. Pleased to me-" He checked himself there, for it was evident to everyone present that he was most certainly not pleased to meet me. "I believe this is the first time we've met. My name is James Snowden. Yukino's husband," he said finally.

He held out his hand for me to shake. But my hands were paralysed by my side. I merely grunted.

Nothing had changed and the fire was still on, but suddenly the atmosphere felt cold and strained.

"I see," Snowden said finally. "So you're the man Yukino was talking about." His eyes flitted to the side, resting on Yukinoshita before turning back to me. It seemed he was unable to bear looking at her for too long. "I'd appreciate it if you could keep quiet about this business. We can settle this amicably."

Ah, so he was one of _those _types.

For the sake of appearances, he would do anything. How others would react to Yukinoshita having an affair meant more to him than his own feelings.

_Let's settle this amicably… _these were the words of a person who would crush you every step of the way - all the while being oh so civil, of course.

A riajuu, through and through.

In a way, it made things easier for me.

I was about to say something when Yukinoshita held her arm across in front of me. She sat down beside me and crossed her fingers over her lap.

"That's a fine thing to say, James. I was hoping you would say that. This conversation will remain between the three of us."

"So why did you bring this man all the way out here?" Snowden frowned. "And without warning, too…"

Yukinoshita sighed. "I wanted there to be no secrets in our marriage."

Something flickered in Snowden's eyes. "I see," he said, his tone neutral.

Were these two really talking about an affair? A sudden wave of uncertainty hit me.

"That applies to both of us," Yukinoshita went on in an icy tone. But she was smiling in a seemingly angelic way… "So if there is anything you wish to confide in me, by all means go right ahead."

"Yukinoshita," I gasped, for I was beginning to figure her out. "You…"

But Yukinoshita shook her head at me, a wry smile on her lips. She really wasn't kidding when she asked me to shut up and stay quiet while she did all the talking.

"Putting aside the numerous unknown contacts on your cell phone, I am curious about how you have been using our family's trust funds. The account balance doesn't seem to match up. I was wondering if you could help me with that," Yukinoshita said innocently. "I suppose that's a conversation for another day, however. Today, we must try to settle my infidelity issues. I couldn't bear it if the ruptures in our marriage became known, _all of them._"

_Yukinoshita, you bitch…_

I smiled.

Trust Yukinoshita Yukino to turn her own mistakes into a bargaining tool to gain leverage over her husband. She spoke of transparency, but in truth, she knew everything that went on without it, didn't she? By admitting her own foibles first, she had gained the moral - and the rhetorical - upper ground. Her husband could not very well deny her demands for openness, now that he was backed into a corner like this. From the looks of it, his sins were worse than hers.

Some part of me wondered if Yukinoshita had actually planned all of this beforehand. Who knows how she had spent those months on her "soul-searching journey"? She had no doubt been using that time wisely, digging up all the dirt she needed and planning her long-term strategy.

As you'd expect from the daughter of a politician.

So then… that moment when Yukinoshita bared her soul before me, when she hesitated in the cemetery and parted her lips uncertainly as her eyes fell on my lips… was that, too…?

"Why, this could be suitable grounds for divorce," Yukinoshita was saying smugly, cutting through my thoughts. "I certainly hope it does not come to that."

"What do you want, Yukino?" Snowden demanded in a low tone.

It seemed the married couple was completely absorbed in their spat and had forgotten my existence altogether for now.

"It's simple. I just want unmitigated access to the Snowden trust fund. You know me. It's not enough to have control of the company funds. I'd like to ensure that everything is working efficiently myself. After all, a married couple ought to share everything. I'm all for equality."

So here was Yukinoshita's motive for staying married. You're a true capitalist, Yukinoshita Yukino.

In England, they'd call you a champagne socialist.

"Look, you," Snowden said bitterly. "You can't just make demands like this after you tell me you're having an affair. I just-"

"Haven't I told you? I'm reformed. I am ending the affair. At your say-so, of course."

"Tell me, Yukino." Snowden laughed sardonically. "Are you really having an affair? I can't imagine a woman like you having a loving bone in your body. I also can't imagine a man like this being at all your type."

Ha! So he was becoming more honest now. I would have bet my house he would have kept this particular nugget of insight to himself normally. Yukinoshita had really pushed this guy to the edge.

"You're right," Yukinoshita admitted frankly. "Hikigaya-kun is not 'my type'. There is in fact nothing at all about him that I find attractive."

"Hey!" I interjected indignantly.

"Even so," Yukinoshita went on, "to me, Hikigaya-kun is… he is…"

For the first time, she seemed to have lost her steely composure.

"He is not my friend, but…"

"That's enough," said her husband curtly. "You don't have to say anything more. I'd like to speak to him privately, if you don't mind."

"Anything you say to him is appropriate for my ears as well," Yukinoshita said firmly, staying put.

"Yukinoshita." I called out her name quietly. Yukinoshita looked at me mutely. "It's fine. Go on ahead. I'll catch up with you."

"Hikigaya-kun…" Yukinoshita swallowed. She peered searchingly into my eyes. She must have seen something that persuaded her because slowly, she nodded. A silent communication had taken place between us. "Very well then. Call me when you are done."

She walked out of the room, her head held high.

When she was gone, Snowden let out a long, heavy sigh. It was the forlorn sigh of a man who had been betrayed.

"Tell me," he said to me wearily. "How long have you known Yukino?"

"I thought you already know the answer," I said.

"No, I don't," said Snowden, looking irritated. "How should I? This all came out of nowhere."

"Huh."

Then what about the detective who had been following me around?

Before I could properly pursue that train of thought, Snowden spoke up again.

"Please, answer the question."

He sounded very tired. He spoke with no authority, but I wanted to answer him anyway.

"We met in high school," I explained slowly and carefully. "We were in the same club."

"Is that all? Is that really all?"

I thought back to our high school days.

"Back then," I said finally, "I suppose it was."

"I see," Yukinoshita's husband said evenly. He seemed to be fighting to keep a straight face. "So she dragged out some old high school crony to do her bidding for her. I wouldn't put it past her."

"You're wrong," I said quietly. "Yukinoshita may be a lying bitch, but I came here because I wanted to."

I knew why Yukinoshita had left me with her husband. She did not approve of my methods, but she accepted them. This would be the last deed I would perform for the sake of the Service Club - for that special place that had belonged to the two of us. And Yuigahama as well.

"Come to think of it, you and Yukinoshita make a good match," I said, smirking.

"What did you say…?"

"The two of you married for the sake of convenience, didn't you? It was a transaction of mutual gain."

Something flickered in Snowden's eyes. It was an emotion that was hard to place.

"The truth is, you married Yukinoshita hoping she would replace her sister Haruno. In that case, you got exactly what you bargained for. Haruno-san would have screwed you over the exact same way."

"What…?"

"Oh, yes, all that talk about marriage being an equal relationship - that's all bullshit. One side always gains more than the other in this so-called transaction of mutual gain. And in this case, it's the Yukinoshitas that gain more from your family fortune than you gain from them. After all," I went on grinding my axe further, "you're the one who doesn't know how to invest his money properly."

"What makes you think that…?!"

"Simple. You're a scholarly sort, just as Yukinoshita said. Look at all these books. You've got a book about business law right in front of you and you're taking notes because you don't know a damn thing. On paper, you're in charge of an electronics business, but in reality, it's Yukinoshita who established everything. That's exactly why you tried to steal money from her, isn't it? Because you don't actually own anything yourself. In theory you're the richer one but in practice you're not.

"But Yukinoshita is no idiot. She's playing you the same way you played her. Why else would the idea of her having an affair hurt you? You'd soon be in the red if she divorced you and you know it.

"So face it. You've lost. You can cling to appearances as much as you like, but in the end, your marriage is a sham-"

"SHUT UP!" Snowden roared suddenly.

He had been growing steadily redder in the face during my speech, but finally he snapped. He banged his fist on the table, causing the book on top to shudder and the wooden table legs to groan in protest.

"How _dare _you…? What gives you the right to talk about my private life like that? I don't know what Yukino has been telling you, but it's all _wrong, _do you hear me?"

"Wrong? How am I wrong if Yukinoshita cheated on you with m-?"

I was rudely interrupted when his fist connected squarely with my face, almost throwing me off the armchair I was sitting on.

Fury had temporarily clouded Snowden's eyes, but it didn't take long for the guilt to spread across every inch of his face. He had, after all, just punched a crippled guy.

"Oh shit… shit… what have I done?" he muttered.

At that moment, the door opened and Yukinoshita stormed back in. Her eyes flashed mercilessly.

But Snowden needed no intimidating. He was white in the face and paralysed in his seat. It was clear he had never punched anyone before. (I sort of felt that from the strength of his punch too, to be honest.)

"I'm sorry, Yukino," he said shakily. "I'll do whatever you say. But please… get this man out of my sight."

"Very well," said Yukinoshita with evident disdain. She turned to me and lent me her hand. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," I responded, a little numbly. Despite the lack of strength behind Snowden's punch, the impact of it still had me reeling.

A familiar sense of disgust was swirling around in my stomach too. It happened every time I played the villain. Only this time I _was _the villain, the adulterer teaming up with his mistress to take down an incompetent embezzler.

Yukinoshita's face was a mirror of mine. Of that, I had no doubt.

"Come here," she said darkly, and together we left the room, leaving Yukinoshita's husband alone in his chair, his face in his hands.

* * *

><p>"I expected you to be harsh, but not that harsh," Yukinoshita remarked as we made our way back to where the black limousine was situated.<p>

Because it was dark, I could not see her face when we were outside. But I could certainly imagine every inch of it.

"I don't think he was good at taking it," I said. "But still…"

"There's no use feeling sorry for the incompetent," Yukinoshita sighed.

But I knew she was uncomfortable too.

"Why him, Yukinoshita? You could have made your own way."

"Yes. But I learned I could only go so far that way." Yukinoshita bowed her head. "With that man's connections and money, combined with my own family resources, I could multiply my wealth. I just didn't want him swindling me and ruining my hard work."

"You want the money to fund your charity organisation, don't you?" I remembered reading about it a while ago. Yukinoshita was a philanthropist. Yes, that made sense.

"Indeed," Yukinoshita said with a nod. "If my actions can cause some shred of goodness overall, then I will consider it a worthwhile venture."

We stopped. The moon came out from behind the clouds, revealing Yukinoshita's downcast face.

Everything was silent. Only Kawasaki's words rang in my ears.

_I thought it was Yukinoshita's way of condescending others. But it was a good thing in the end._

I could not keep quiet any longer.

"What's with the cynical idealism?" I demanded bitterly. "For all these years, have you been trying to recreate the Service Club?"

Yukinoshita's face froze. I honestly think that thought had never occurred to her, as clever and resourceful as she was.

"Hikigaya-kun," she said numbly. "I…"

"You're such a fool," I declared. (How rare it was for me to be the one to say those words.) "Don't you know that it's cowardice to run away from who you are?"

"Then you will never move forward," Yukinoshita said through gritted teeth, "and you will never save anyone."

I felt like we'd had this conversation before.

I stared hard at Yukinoshita, and though we were close enough to hold hands and kiss, I had never fully realised how deep the chasm was between us until that moment.

Yukinoshita held my gaze levelly for a while, but then she turned away with a "hmph!" and started pressing away at her cell phone. I wondered what she was doing.

"I've just deleted your number," she announced smoothly.

"Huh?" I asked dumbly.

"Because this," she said, "is the end of the affair."

"Oh, right," I said.

So it was.

Yukinoshita had fulfilled her purpose. She would not betray her ideals. She would not divorce her husband. I had known all of this before we had even come here.

I promptly took out my phone and deleted her number too. It was just a measly few kilobytes of data, but something clenched in my chest as the bin icon came up on my screen. Was this all our relationship had amounted to?

I wanted to say goodbye but no words formed on my lips. Yukinoshita watched me expectantly for a moment, her mouth half-open, but eventually she turned away with a soft sigh.

Silence filled the night sky.

We had reached the car. The driver was standing outside, holding the door open for me. There was no more delaying the inevitable.

A terrible panic rose in me. I wanted to run as fast as I could and scream at the top of my lungs. Like a petulant child, I wanted to cling to Yukinoshita's arm and beg her not to go.

But that terrible, sudden feeling died away as soon as it came. All that was left in its wake was an eerie hollowness in my gut. I looked at Yukinoshita and she looked at me - and we both nodded.

There is no such thing as star-crossed lovers.

Romeo and Juliet, Antony and Cleopatra, Tristan and Isolde, the couple from _Titanic _- I'm sure they would never have given each other the time of day if circumstances did not get in the way. As far as I am concerned, succumbing to a common enemy is the cheap way to go out. In real life, relationships live and die through choice and inaction. I'm sure the poets couldn't stand something so trite and ordinary. But trust me, I know. I've spent my whole life pressing the reset button.

And so the affair ended as a strangled, stillborn infant. It was no one's fault but our own. I'm sure even years later I would say that Yukinoshita Yukino made the right decision that day. She's still the only woman I would trust with something so important.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: <strong>Next chapter is the last.


	8. Epilogue

**Epilogue: Reluctantly, Hikigaya Hachiman Returns To His Original Path**

New Year's. It was that time of the year that isn't so bad for loners, comparatively speaking. You spend the time with family anyway. It's a whole load of bother going down to the shrine to pray when you're still on crutches, though.

Komachi hung around my house the whole time like a bad smell, treating me like an invalid - which, admittedly, I was. She made me soup and followed me around everywhere, and it got a bit annoying after a while. But I suppose I didn't really mind all that much. There are worse little sisters out there than Komachi, I must admit.

"I don't know why you come around so much," I grumbled when she waltzed into my house for the third time that day. "Don't you have a husband to attend to?"

"Bro, you have a really skewed idea of how women function in society these days if you think that's all we do with our time."

"I get it now," I said smugly. "You must have gotten sick of him. You must have realised that I was right and you were wrong all along." I never had approved of Komachi's choice of husband. That being said, I would not have approved of anyone, so it was best if he did not take it personally.

"No. That's really not it at all." Komachi let out a long-suffering sigh. An unspoken question seemed to linger in the air: "Why am I related to this guy again?" I did my best to ignore the subtext.

I looked at Komachi as she busied herself dusting my room. It was quite thoughtful of her, really, especially since I was in no condition to do the cleaning. In particular, my eyes drifted to her stomach. Still no sign of a baby bump, I see.

But Komachi was most certainly pregnant. Her child would be born sometime next year.

That day did not seem as far away today as it had seemed yesterday.

"You don't have to push yourself since you're pregnant, you know," I said.

"Ha! Weren't you the one telling me to get over myself a few weeks ago?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

"I really am fine, Bro," Komachi assured me with a smile. "You don't have to blame yourself for getting injured."

_You don't have to blame yourself._

Nice words that nobody ever listened to.

But really, it was probably for the best that Komachi minded her own business. That was probably what she would end up doing when her child was born anyway. There was no way she could spare this much time for me with a kid on her hands. Her life would inevitably change. No, her life was _already _changing.

"Komachi."

"You want something?" Komachi asked, turning around.

For a moment, I did not say anything. I imagined my pregnant sister with long, flowing black hair and a pale, sculpted face, frozen in time.

Then I said, "Have you ever thought of motherhood as a burden?"

"Huh? Why should I?"

"No reason," I said, looking away. "I just… wanted to know how you felt about something I'll never experience."

Komachi looked at me. Her eyes crinkled with a smile.

"What's the point of me explaining, then? You should use your imagination more."

And with that, she turned around and went back to her cleaning, humming a cheerful tune. As musically inept as Komachi was, she knew all my favourite songs.

That was my little sister for you. My closest stranger.

* * *

><p>Later on that day, we went down to the local shrine together to celebrate the New Year. The air was chilly and the grass was wet with dew, but the sun was out and the sky was bluer than it had been in weeks. No trace of snow in Chiba today, of course.<p>

It had been quite a while since I had last been outside for any substantial length of time. In my mind's eye, the world outside was still basked in orange. Everything as far as the eye could see was built over the bodies of the long dead. But that tranquil scene had passed forever, and right now the world was filled with chatter.

Old people, young people, families, couples - they all gathered without fail at the shrine every year. It was almost amazing in a way that so many people with such little in common could gather in a single place like this, for the blessings of a god they didn't really believe in.

What was even more amazing was how everyone I passed was smiling. Or perhaps it wasn't really so amazing, considering the occasion. In this world, Komachi was not the only ray of sunshine.

I would meet another one soon enough.

She was waiting by the steps of the shrine, dressed in loose pants and a sweater. In her younger days, she might have worn a kimono for the occasion, but today there were no other girls to fit in with and no boys to impress.

"Hey, I've been waiting for you two," Yuigahama said with a little wave.

At the year's end, it was only natural that Yuigahama Yui would come back to Chiba.

Yuigahama was one of the first people to learn about my accident. Komachi called her and they had a long talk about it. It seemed Yuigahama had plenty of good things to say about me, although I was not inclined to hear them.

Today, she looked at my right leg and a smile came over her face as she walked up to me. "I'm really proud of you, Hikki," she whispered, "for what you did."

Nothing kills conversation easier than compliments, no matter how sincerely Yuigahama might have meant them. I was tongue-tied for a very long moment.

I remembered our last conversation and marveled over how she still had the energy to see me. A part of me didn't want to see her. Another part of me wanted to see her desperately.

But after a moment, a sense of calm settled over me.

_This is how it is_, the thought ran through my mind.

We spent the next half hour catching up. As you would expect, Komachi directed most of the conversation. She talked cheerfully about this and that. Her talking had a way of washing over you. But Yuigahama kept up animatedly.

"My gosh, to think you're having a baby, Komachi-chan!" she gushed. "It's so _weird_, too! I meant, it only feels like yesterday when you were a cute middle schooler."

My little sister was cute? Heh, I suppose she was.

These days, Komachi retained a girlish look about her. Even though she was twenty-five she could have passed for twenty. If she were trying to buy alcohol, she would have to show her ID. She would probably still look good in a uniform, too…

I slapped my cheeks firmly.

It seemed I had lost track of the conversation for a moment there.

"What about you, Yui-san?" Komachi was saying blithely. "Have you ever thought about having a child?"

"I'd have to get married first!" Yuigahama insisted, laughing. "And, well, that doesn't seem very likely right now…"

Her smile twitched.

"Hm? But you're so pretty, Yui-san! You could snag a husband easily. I mean, I know some prime candidates," said Komachi, staring at me.

_Give me a break._

Yuigahama laughed sheepishly. "It's not that! I'm back with my boyfriend, after all."

"Huh? Really?" I said, speaking up for the first time.

"Yeah, the guy I went to Australia with, remember?"

I could vaguely recall something like that.

Yuigahama had never spoken about her ex-boyfriend at all, but somehow I could imagine the trouble she had.

"You don't want to get married to your boyfriend one day?" Komachi asked, looking more than a little disappointed.

"I don't know," said Yuigahama. "He was having such a hard time and I was the one who couldn't handle it. That's why we broke up in the first place."

A look of distinct unease came over his face as she spoke - and not to mention guilt.

"So why are you back with him?" I asked bluntly.

"I don't know," Yuigahama said again. And she honestly did seem baffled. "I thought I could try to be a better person this time. He's on medication now, so that helps."

"Is he sick?" Komachi asked concernedly.

"Not his body," said Yuigahama. "But anyway." She shook her head and clapped her hands together. "Shall we go buy our fortunes now?"

Paper fortunes are a waste of time, but Komachi was really into that sort of thing. Predictably enough, she latched onto the opportunity. Or maybe she just wanted an excuse not to talk about something she so plainly did not understand. As we walked along, I glanced at Yuigahama.

I wondered what sort of struggles she must have led in her adult life, so far removed from our common experiences.

I wondered how she could still smile so brightly after all that.

But perhaps that wasn't such a mystery.

* * *

><p>My fortune was, predictably, a load of rot. You're most likely to get good luck, so when you think about it from a statistical perspective, you're luckier if you get bad luck. But in my bad luck, I've only ever gotten good luck. Truly, paper fortunes are a scientific paradox, unsolvable by man.<p>

Not to mention those things are mainly for the amusement of children anyway. Komachi got one for the sake of her unborn child and started wailing uncontrollably.

"Bro! This is a tragedy! I got super bad luck! I-is my baby doomed?!"

"How lucky," I said. "Your baby is already ahead of me in life."

"I'm going to get another one!" Komachi announced dramatically, before rushing back into the line.

I shrugged. "Whatever."

"I don't understand your logic," Yuigahama said with a sigh. She seemed happy over getting good luck. "Oh my goodness, is that Hiratsuka-sensei?!" she exclaimed suddenly.

Paper fortunes really were popular among children, like I said. But here was an adult taking it way too seriously. She was scowling at the fortune she had received and was reaching out for another one. I recognised her at once from her long hair and curvaceous body.

It was no surprise coming across someone from my old high school around here. This shrine was in the vicinity of Soubu high school. A couple of years back, I spotted the loud-mouthed guy from my class praying at the shrine. Although our eyes met, he did not recognise me and I pretended not to recognise him. Such is life.

But there was no pretending I didn't know Hiratsuka-sensei when she noticed me and waved cheerfully in my direction. This was not going to end well.

My old high school teacher was ten years my senior and, honestly, that seemed more obvious now than it did back then. As she came closer, I could see the early formation of wrinkles on her face. But that didn't really matter. Everything else about her gave off an impression of inexhaustible youth. Except for the cigarette she had in her mouth. So she still hadn't kicked that habit, huh?

"Hello, Hikigaya, Yuigahama," she said, taking out the cigarette and puffing out the smoke. "What a coincidence to see two of my old students here."

"I know, right?" said Yuigahama. "Gosh, I'm really happy right now."

"Likewise," said Hiratsuka-sensei with a wry smile. "Good to see you two are well."

"How've you been doing these days? Gosh, it's been so long," Yuigahama gushed.

"Well, about that…" Hiratsuka-sensei began, when suddenly I heard a man's voice call out "Shizuka!" behind her. That was Hiratsuka-sensei's first name.

Yuigahama and I looked at each other dumbly. Could it be…?

"This is my husband," Hiratsuka-sensei announced proudly, like a kid bragging about all the bugs he had collected.

I couldn't believe it. Sensei had actually succeeded in getting married. What? Who was the sucker?

But an even bigger twist was to come. As soon as the husband came into view, I recognised him immediately.

"You…!" I gasped in shock and horror.

He smiled and waved at me.

It was Satou Satoshi.

"What? You know this guy?" Yuigahama said confusedly.

"It's a long story," I said numbly. Then I turned to Satou Satoshi. "What are _you _doing here?"

Instead of answering me, Satou Satoshi elbowed Sensei. "Isn't he a riot?"

"I know," said Sensei with a smile. "I taught this boy."

I stared at the two of them, my mouth agape. The pieces were slowly starting to fall into place.

It was true that Yukinoshita's husband had not sent any detectives after me. He had admitted to that himself. In that case, who had sent Satou Satoshi? Was he even really a detective in the first place?

As I was staring, Sensei's husband introduced himself to Yuigahama. "I'm Satou Satoshi, a professional actor. You might recognise me from the Pocari Sweat commercials," he said with a jovial wink.

"Not at all!" Yuigahama said. "You look completely different!"

_An actor, huh…?_

His manner certainly was completely different from how he had been when he was "investigating" me. It was like he had put on a different face with exactly the same facial features.

I noticed Hiratsuka-sensei peering straight at me. Then she said suddenly, "Hikigaya, come with me."

It was that same authoritative tone she had always used as my teacher. Being with her had never made me want to act like a good student, but today I followed her without a word as if I was spellbound. We left Yuigahama with Satou Satoshi, who nodded in understanding.

Hiratsuka-sensei led me to a relatively secluded area underneath the shade of a sparse, leafless tree.

"I imagine you're surprised," she said with a chuckle.

"Am I ever? Why'd you send that guy after me? And hang on, how'd you even meet him in the first place?" The questions came pouring out of my mouth like a broken dam.

Hiratsuka-sensei's eyes clouded over as she answered in a faraway tone. "We met at the Shonen Jump Festa…"

"Why am I not surprised…?" I remembered Satou Satoshi's cringe-worthy business card and shuddered.

"Anyway," said Hiratsuka-sensei, coughing. "You haven't changed very much at all, Hikigaya."

"Neither have you, Sensei. I mean, disregarding my surprise that you actually managed to marry someone at all, I can't say that yo- ooooof!" Sensei punched me in the stomach. "Hey, I'm an invalid here!"

"I think you'll survive," said Sensei as she blew her right fist. "All right. Now to business. Hikigaya, I know as well as you do what happened to Yukinoshita."

"I figured."

It honestly felt weird to be talking about Yukinoshita with Sensei, as if we were resuming a conversation that we had been having only yesterday. Only it wasn't like that at all. Ten years had passed.

The fact that we could talk this way now was proof that Yukinoshita and I had been failures. Sensei had to be disappointed with us.

But she didn't look disappointed, only remorseful.

"A lot of things changed after Haruno passed away. I was unable to reach out to Yukinoshita. And then, when she did her disappearing act, I wondered if you had something to do with it. It was just a wild guess…"

"So? Why didn't you tell me about it directly?"

"Because I wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine," she said.

"…huh?"

Out of all the possible reasons, she chose _that_?

"Hikigaya, having someone tell you that what you were doing was wrong… did that honestly make you feel better?"

Sensei's eyes were tender, as if she already knew the answer.

In that case, there was no point telling her. But I decided to humour her anyway.

"In a way, it did make me feel better. But it also made things worse."

When I thought about how Satou Satoshi had nudged me towards Yukinoshita, even as he affirmed our flaws, I had to admit that Hiratsuka-sensei was right. It _was _a taste of my own medicine.

It was something I could have done if I was not involved.

My fists clenched at my side. "Just knowing things… doesn't make them right."

"I'm glad you understand that now," Hiratsuka-sensei said softly.

I looked up at her face. All these years and I still needed these lessons. How pathetic.

But Hiratsuka-sensei's eyes were only full of kindness.

"Hikigaya, you're still learning. You're still my student."

This was closer to Hiratsuka-sensei's way of doing things. But whether that was the right way or not, I could not say.

All I could think of was how deeply Yukinoshita and I had disappointed her by refusing to change, all those years ago.

I hated myself for knowing what was wrong with me, but not knowing how to fix it. What, then, was the point of knowing? Of being honest? If it led to nowhere in the end, then perhaps it would have been better to embrace a happy lie from the beginning.

But it was too late for that now.

"I guess…" I swallowed. "I…"

But before I could muster out any more words, Hiratsuka-sensei did something that took me off-guard. It knocked the air out of my chest far more than her punch did.

She embraced me in a hug.

It was so, so warm. I don't think I could have moved, even if I was not crippled.

"Hikigaya…" I felt her warm breath in my ears. "Even if it is impossible to truly change, you must always continue to try."

I closed my eyes and leaned against her, breathing out slowly to match the rate of my steady heartbeat.

* * *

><p>After what felt like several lifetimes, we broke apart. There was nothing else that needed to be said. Hiratsuka-sensei and I made our way back to the shrine, where everyone was waiting for us. There, we were greeted with ready smiles.<p>

After that, the day passed uneventfully, and eventually, we decided to go home. That's how New Year's always goes. Komachi wanted to spend time with her husband, so she left early. That left Yuigahama alone with me.

She came back to my house for a cup of tea. She talked a lot about how nice it was to see Hiratsuka-sensei again and what a funny man her husband was, but I could only grunt noncommittally in reply.

After Yuigahama was gone, my life would be back to its monotonous daily rituals. A part of me would have liked the peace and quietude, but another part of me no longer felt satisfied. Perhaps it would never be satisfied again, or was that too much to ask of myself?

"Yuigahama, I'm sorry," I said.

My apology did not connect with what Yuigahama had just said, so she just looked at me, puzzled. "What for?"

"For not telling you about me and Yukinoshita."

"Oh, that." Yuigahama smiled softly as she sipped on the warm tea I prepared for her. It was the least I could have done for her. "Don't worry. I know about that now."

She smiled the same way she had when we had first encountered each other again. She smiled to assure _me_, not to assure herself.

Like me, Yuigahama kept things to herself. She pretended not to know about things when she did, perhaps to protect herself and others. But I think she mostly did it out of kindness this time. I could believe in that.

Now, though, we could talk openly about the elephant in the room.

"She called me the other day, you know?" Yuigahama said quietly. "She told me about everything that happened. I find it so hard to believe…"

So Yukinoshita really hadn't been kidding about admitting to her mistakes.

"She told you that because she still trusts you," I said.

_But she doesn't trust me_.

I left those words unsaid, but we both felt their brunt directly. I could even feel my face form a wince in reaction.

As for Yuigahama, she was looking at me with sympathetic eyes.

No, not sympathetic, I thought suddenly. Those were eyes that said, "I understand."

It wasn't quite as insulting.

"Say, what exactly did Yukinoshita tell you?" I asked, changing the subject anyway.

Even if it was just second-hand information, I wanted to know anyway. Polite curiosity, you could call it.

As we were speaking, the sky was clouding over, although the air inside the house didn't really get any noticeably chillier. Yuigahama was sitting close to the window, and as the sky changed, her eyes looked just a little bit duller.

"She said she's doing fine. But she also said, 'I probably shouldn't talk too much about this with you.'"

"Why's that?"

"She said, 'I'll end up thinking about the past too much.' Hikki, do you really think that's such a bad thing?"

"I don't know," I said frankly. It felt like the two of us had been saying that a lot lately. "But I don't think her decision was wrong."

"Huh?"

"When you're nothing but a burden or temptation in someone else's life, the sensible thing for them to do is get rid of you."

"I wouldn't want to be thought of as a burden," Yuigahama said, her face falling.

I agreed with her. Nobody wants to be a burden. Loners especially. Perhaps that's why they're loners.

"But Hikki, do you really think you were a burden to Yukinon? Did it really have to turn out _that _way?"

"I don't know," I said yet again. "I don't know, Yuigahama."

Maybe if we had never gotten off on the wrong foot, this would never have happened.

Looking back, though, I was glad the whole thing had never escalated further. I don't think either of us would have been able to stand it.

Was that something to be thankful or resentful over, I wonder?

Shaking my head, I said to Yuigahama, "It wasn't as serious as you're probably thinking."

She blinked. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"We never even kissed," I said, and as soon as I uttered those words, I felt myself get a little indignant.

But that seemed to cheer Yuigahama up. "How like the two of you," she laughed.

I couldn't help it. I laughed too.

During the span of that laughter, everything about the situation changed colour completely. The whole affair felt unbelievably stupid in hindsight. Not to mention lightweight.

I couldn't even believe that it had even happened at all. I don't think I've ever laughed so hard in my life.

"Do you ever want to see Yukinon again? What would you say to her?" Yuigahama asked once the laughter had subsided.

_That _made me stop and think. The laughter died away in my throat.

Say if those feelings I had for Yukinoshita (whatever they happened to be) were genuine, and say if the feelings she had for me were genuine as well. Where did that put us? Did they even really mean anything in the end?

I'm sure they did. Even now, I can still remember the cool, late afternoon breeze in the Service Club room and the wry smile on Yukinoshita's calm face as she turned the pages of a literary novel. I hated high school, but those quiet moments weren't so bad. I'm sure a part of me wished it all could have lasted forever.

So many pointless things meant so much to me in spite of (no, because of) myself.

And when I thought of it like that, perhaps I did feel a little wistful, even if Yukinoshita regarded me as a burden, even if the path she chose was a lonely and winding road, even if she was wrong in her righteousness.

I'm sure that, more than anyone, Yukinoshita believed in a bright, shining future, built upon the foundations of yesterday's sins. Right up until the end of the affair, I would have told you I did not believe in such a thing.

But now… I could see Yukinoshita's face in my mind's eye. Though by all rights I should have hated her for throwing me aside and saying nothing to me, I could not muster any anger or resentment. As it turned out, I had forgiven Yukinoshita for her hypocrisy years ago.

So I turned back to Yuigahama and looked the ghost of our past in her bright, twinkling eyes. They were the callous reminder of what could have been. I could not bring myself to hate that either.

After the end of the affair, it was the closest thing I could ever come to something genuine. It was the sort of thing that doesn't really happen to anyone, but feels so true that it might as well be. As soon as I spun those feelings into words, it would no longer be true.

And I said in my heart, _"If I could see her again, I would tell her that I love her. And that really would be the end of it."_

**fin**

_I know that happiness is a fairytale that doesn't exist  
>I know all too well (I know all too well)<br>But you know  
>That's where I want to go…<em>

Afterword

Hi there, this is Frog-kun. You might not know this, but I translated volumes 2 and 3 of the _Oregairu _light novel for Nano Desu. You can find the links on Baka-Tsuki.

Writing a fanfiction for _Oregairu _was an interesting experience because of my close familiarity with the source material. I used a different writing style here than for my translations not only because I wanted to convey my vision of these characters as adults, but also because faithfulness is not such a rigid concept in fanfiction. Egoistically, I wanted this story to reflect _my _soul as a writer, not Wataru Watari's.

As much as this story was inspired by _Oregairu_, I think it draws equally from life and the literature that resonates with me. The title comes from _The End of the Affair _(1951) by Graham Greene. I heartily recommend you read that novel if you ever get the chance.

In chapter 5, Yukino tells Hachiman about the story of Tsubaki-hime. That is the Japanese translation of _La Dame aux camellias _(1848) by Alexandre Dumas, _fils. _The story is better known as the opera _La Traviata,_ or for its English title _The Lady of the Camellias._

I also feel I should give special mention to _A Folklore for My Generation: A Pre-history of Late-stage Capitalism_ (1989), a short story by Haruki Murakami. The story of unfulfilled love and lost souls moved me deeply, and I think you can see shades of that story's plot in this one.

In any case, thank you for reading this story to the end! I suspect it was not an easy story to read. In many ways, it was a difficult one to write. Thank you especially to those anonymous readers of mine who encouraged me to publish this story in the first place. Without you, this story would still have been sitting in my drafts folder, never to see the light of day.

(The lyrics quoted at the end are from the _Oregairu _OP, by the way.)


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